


Shinobi Isekai!: Round Three!

by Morrowyn



Series: Shinobi Isekai! Extended Universe [3]
Category: Naruto
Genre: AU, Ableism, Age Regression/De-Aging, Are there races in Naruto?, Best Friends, Bigotry & Prejudice, Body Dysphoria, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Isekai, Menstruation, Nationalism, Nonbinary Character, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period Typical Bigotry, Period-Typical Sexism, Propaganda, Racism, Reincarnation, Sexism, Strained Friendships, Strained Relationships, Suicidal Thoughts, Trans Female Character, Transmigration, Violence, Xenophobia, creepy old men, tagging to be safe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:39:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 32
Words: 75,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27205340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morrowyn/pseuds/Morrowyn
Summary: There are worse things than waking up in a new body in the middle of nowhere with a voice in your head and people out to kill you.At least the voice used the right pronouns.
Relationships: Guess - Relationship, Uchiha Obito & Original Female Character(s)
Series: Shinobi Isekai! Extended Universe [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1711768
Comments: 531
Kudos: 703
Collections: A Collection of Beloved Inserts, Best of Fanfiction, SelfInserts OCs Reincarnation and Time Travel, best fic collection ever read





	1. By the Pricking of My Thumbs

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Catch Your Breath](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1893351) by [Liangnui](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liangnui/pseuds/Liangnui). 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something unlucky this way comes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're here! It's begun! This work is my 2020 NaNoWriMo project, and it will be updated every day of November with chapters of at least 1700 words each. (•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑ Fighting!
> 
> I am saying this here perhaps to the detriment of preserving my narrative, but the OC in this installment of Shinobi Isekai is a Trans Woman. If you have a problem with that, please go elsewhere. If you have insight which you think will improve my characterization, please share! My younger sister is a Trans Woman and I am immensely grateful for all the help she's given me in creating this character and how I've written about her. I asked so many insensitive questions, lol. Love you, Sibling~.

Dirt.

That was the first thing she noticed as she came to her senses, the smell of it permeating her sinuses and bringing up memories of a childhood filled with the stuff.

Wet.

That was the second thing. Her skin was wet and clammy, chilled but not enough to make her shiver.

Wet dirt.

Mud.

She was lying in mud, the dry crust of it sticking to her face and cracking off her clothing as she pushed herself up off her stomach. With a grimace, she looked at the cartoony imprint of her body in the soil, wrinkling her nose as a bug crossed the indent with a frantic scurry. She scrubbed furiously at her face and hair, taking simple joy in watching the flakes of filth fall as she took stock of her surroundings.

The mud she kneeled in was nestled between the massive roots of an even massiver tree. The likes of which she had never seen in person before, though there might have been a picture in a textbook somewhere. Were they Redwoods? The big ones with their own National Park? Seemed like it from her place on the ground, looking up, up, up at the impossibly tall tree. It was a nice tree. With pretty reddish bark and cute little bits of lichen and moss clinging to it like any proper tree should. It stood among other trees like it, all of them just as big and fairly nice looking, with wide, shade casting leaves on thick branches high up above her head. The air she breathed was clean but heavy, not quite humid but definitely carrying something more than oxygen, filling up her lungs in a way she couldn’t remember them ever being filled before. With every inhale, new colors made themselves known to her, old ones growing in vibrancy until her eyes hurt. It took several minutes before she could look at the trees without picking out every different shade of brown in their bark, but the intensity of it all faded into the background as she found herself facing a very difficult question.

Where the fuck was she?

This was most certainly not anywhere near her family home in Texas, where her last clear memory put her. There was a party for her grandmother’s eightieth birthday, and the entire extended family had come to town to celebrate. She’d sequestered herself in her room to escape the army of baby cousins, and then…

And then dirt.

Not Texas dirt, either. This wasn’t the sort of thing her cousins could pull off on their own, so it probably wasn’t a prank. The idea of those hellions in her room had horrified chills running down her spine, anyway, so she immediately dismissed the possibility for the good of her mental health. So, no pranks. Kidnapping? That was worse and just as unlikely, given how full her house had been. Also. How long had she been asleep? Unconscious? Getting anywhere with trees like these would have taken ages. How on earth did she sleep through that?

Unless…

No. No, she would remember being drugged, right? All her mother’s lectures on keeping an eye on her drink and never taking anything from strangers ran through her mind as she frantically tried to remember just how the hell she went from desert chaparral to ancient forest. She was in her house, though? So, how?

**As interesting as that all is, I’m afraid I must interrupt. We need to leave. Now. Unlucky things are coming our way.**

Startled, she looked up and around for the source of the voice. There was no one. She sat alone in the mud, with nothing but bugs for company.

“H-hello?” The fuck? That wasn’t her voice. It was high pitched and small, like a little kid’s. Her hands came up to clutch at her necklace, fingers rubbing the cross which hung there. Wait, where was Jesus?

 **I’m serious,** the voice insisted, oddly reminiscent of...Batman? It was low and rough, like it was trying to disguise its natural timbre with a growl. **You’re super lucky to be alive, right now, but that can change very fast! We need to move move _move!_ **

She pulled up the cross, staring at it in confusion. It was just a cross. Two metal cylinders stuck to each other, the gold chain fastened to the horizontal bar with little metal loops. There was no Jesus.

So, it was a cross, not a crucifix. Not _her_ crucifix.

And those weren’t her hands.

The skin was too dark, for one, maybe a shade or five darker than her summer skin tone. The fingers were slender and the nails nicely tapered—except for one, but it was broken, so it wasn’t its fault—and they clearly belonged to someone who weighed much less than she did.

Ah. It was a dream.

Of course, it was. What else would it be? She clearly fell asleep and was now experiencing some sort of lucid dream.

**What part of move is so hard to understand? Do I need to repeat it in that other language of yours? _Muévete, ya! Apurale!_**

It was awfully pushy for a dream. If she was lucid, she should be able to control it, right? Oh, geeze, she really should have listened to Josué when he tried to teach her how. Maybe she’d internalized his rants and somehow did it subconsciously? It didn’t help much, now, though.

**Wow. You’re ignoring me. So mean. How unlucky I am, being stuck with such a cruel host. I think I liked you better when you were a scared little girl.**

Oh, how nice! The dream used the right gender! No matter how weird or scary it got, now, it would be a good dream. 

**Ugh. We are going to die. People are hunting us as we speak, fully intent on ending our life, and yet!** The voice sighed, long and sad. **So unlucky.**

She slowly pulled herself to her feet, wiggling little toes where they peeked out of weird black sandals. They looked familiar, but she supposed they would, since dreams are made up of things the brain sees in real life, even if the conscious mind doesn’t remember it. Right? It sounded right.

She was wearing…harem pants? No, that was wrong, but she didn’t have the words to describe them properly. The white fabric was wrapped around her legs, less actual pants and more a skirt folded to act like pants, muddy stains on the knees. Her shirt—dress? tunic?—reached her knees, the dark blue fabric covered in colorful bits of embroidery and held closed by wooden toggles on one side of her chest.

She’d never seen anything like it, except she must have, or it wouldn’t be in her dream. Huh.

The brain was pretty amazing.

**By all that is holy, would you please _run?_**

Something come over her, a strange heat spawning on her back between her shoulder blades. It spread through her body, a panicked sweat beading on her too dark skin. She had to go. Had to move. Couldn’t stay where she was. Nope. Had to go go _go!_

She turned on her heel and ran, the fire burning inside her driving her forward. Fallen leaves crunched under her feet and she almost slipped from a lack of traction. She had no idea where she was going. There was a destination, she knew there was with the certainty only a dream could inspire, but she didn’t know what it was. She just knew she had to get there. Right now.

**They’re coming.**

Who was they? Did she want to know? Wasn’t she supposed to be in control of this dream? Had she somehow missed the chance? She should have listened to Josue!

Another giant root rose up in her path, lichen dripping from it like water. In her haste, she made to jump over it, completely forgetting that her legs were much shorter than they should be. She fell, her face hitting the leaf litter with a thud.

Ow.

Wait, ow? Weren’t dreams not supposed to hurt? That was a thing, right? Right?

She pushed herself up on stinging palms, her face throbbing from the impact. She wiped the dirt away only to find blood on her fingers. She’d hurt herself. Really hurt herself. In a _dream_.

Something snapped behind her and she rolled over onto her butt, looking up with wide eyes through golden ringlets that had fallen into her face.

That wasn’t her hair.

The thought was distant and unimportant. Looming above her were three human figures cast in shadow by the sun behind them. They were much bigger than her, and she noticed with a nervous swallow that there were weapons in their hands. Blades, curved and wicked, sparkled in the very sun that hid their wielders’ identities.

One of them started laughing, broad shoulders shaking with the force of their mirth.

“Well, then,” they said with a rich baritone voice. “This is as far as you go, huh, little bug?”

The fuck kind of messed up dream was this? Her little body was suddenly wracked with shivers, her extremities numb and unfeeling as she tried to scoot away from the large, terrifying figures.

 **I told you to run,** the voice lamented. **If you’d listened, we might have gotten farther. Hah,** it sighed. **So unlucky.**

The person who’d spoken crouched down, bringing their face out of shadow. They were wearing a head covering with only their well tanned face exposed. Their shoulders and arms were bare, muscles bulging menacingly as they adjusted their grip on their weapon. On their forehead was…

A Naruto headband?

Wow, her subconscious had dug _real_ deep to build this dream, huh? When was the last time she watched Naruto? Had she even finished it?

**How unlucky, to be stuck with someone who doesn’t even remember how the story ends. So tragic! So _cruel!_**

Hey, the voice knew Naruto. How nice.

**You _cannot_ be serious.**

“Poor little bug,” the dangerous person crooned, his tone not at all sympathetic. “You tried so hard, but, in the end, this was all you could do. I told the elders it might come to this. _Your family_ has always been good at running.”

Now, that was rude. She wasn’t sure what ‘family’ they were talking about, but she’d been around enough racists in her life to recognize the stress he’d put on the word.

“Does your mother know you’re out here being rude?” She asked, using her go to response for when she couldn’t just walk away from a bad conversation. Her voice was small and trembled with the fear that shook her body. “If I told her what you said, would she be proud of you?”

The expression on their face made it clear they were not expecting that. Bringing someone’s mother into the conversation either completely shut them down or agitated them further, so she really only did it when she was desperate to end the conversation. That said, this was a dream so the consequences for engaging with a racist—or a…family-ist…--would only be transient, since she’d wake up and it would all be forgotten.

“Since when can you talk?”

Huh?

She stared up at the speaker, just as confused as they were. Since when _couldn’t_ she talk.

**Since ten minutes ago and you were a different person.**

What?

Ah, she understood now. **You don’t.** She’d come to her senses in the middle of the dream. **You really didn’t.** So, obviously, she must have forgotten what was going on before it became lucid. **I’m telling you, that’s not it.**

“Well, what is it, then?” She demanded, tilting her head back to look at the patches of sky peeking through the canopy. “Since you’re apparently an expert on dreams.”

 **Now you’ve done it,** it lamented, whining like a baby. **This isn’t a dream, you larva! They’re going to kill you!**

“Well, that’s not very nice,” she admonished it. “And how do you know that? Maybe they’re here to invite me to a super secret ninja party.”

**…You’re…stupid, huh?**

Rude.

“Shit, Takeo,” one of the other scary dream generated cosplayers said to the one who’d spoken to her. “She’s talking to it! We need to handle this, now!”

“Wait, Katsuya.” The leader reached out and stopped their companion from raising their blade with a hand on their arm. “If you kill her it will just dissipate and we’ll have to wait for it to reform before we can seal it, again! We need to take her back.”

 **You know,** the voice drawled. **I can understand why you’re avoiding using pronouns for these bozos—I can see they hold great importance to you from your memories—but must you call me an it? I have a name, you know. It’s a nice name. My father gave it to me.**

She had been a little rude, huh? She was avoiding assigning genders to the people looming over her despite their traditionally masculine appearances and voices, but she’d relegated the voice that had so kindly tried to help her escape to an object.

“You’re right,” she conceded, more than a little ashamed. “What are your name and pronouns, Comrade Voice?”

**Hoho, Comrade? I like that! My name is Choumei, and I am currently in a he/him mood.**

“It’s nice to meet you Choumei,” she cordially. “My name is—.”

**Move!**

Her body moved of its own accord again, rolling to the left with a speed that left her dizzy. She stared open mouthed at the cruelly curved scythe that stood embedded in the dirt where she’d sat just two seconds before. The deadly weapon was pulled up with a spray of loam by a chain attached to its hilt, returning to the first speaker’s hand like one of Spiderman’s webs, the movement unnaturally smooth and swift.

Holy shit. They were actually trying to kill her.

**I told you.**

“Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be,” her attacker implored, deep voice saccharine with false pity. “We’re not here to hurt you, bug, just take you home.”

Where was home?

 **Nowhere you want to be, trust me.** Choumei’s words were a growl in the back of her mind, buzzing like a hive of angry bees. **I got us out, but it killed the original. If I do it again, you might end up dying, too.**

What?

“What are you—eep!”

Again, Choumei—because it had to be Choumei and _damn_ but that name was familiar—moved her body, helping her dodge a genuine ninja kunai. The Naruto theme was still running strong.

**We don’t have time. I’m sorry, but I promised Hotaru I would save her daughter. I half failed, but half a failure is half a success. Who knows, maybe I’ll get lucky and she’ll come back.**

She had no idea what Choumei was saying, but she didn’t have the chance to ask. Something on her back began to burn, a fire dancing between her shoulder blades. She grit her teeth against the pain, her too little fingers digging into the dirt as her hands closed around the leaf littler in an unconscious response. She looked up at the people who’d come to kill her, saw the horror in their eyes, and then she blacked out.


	2. The Last Lion Roars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beside the Last Crumbling Fountain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Naruto Wiki claims that Takigakure is based on South East Asia, so I am drawing a lot from South and South East Asian aesthetics for this story. I am _not _South or South East Asian, at all, in any way, so, if, at any point, you feel I am misrepresenting or completely misusing elements of the cultures I am drawing inspiration from, please let me know! Correct me! I take criticism and advice seriously and I am always willing to learn! I'm a historian by training, so I guarantee there's no such thing as too much information! Educate me! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ__
> 
> __Also! Choumei described as a 'happy go lucky' type. But he sounds like Batman..._ _

When she opened her eyes, it was to the sound of chirping insects. She lay there, staring at a cricket singing away on a fallen leaf, trying its best to woo any potential lovers who may be listening. Her back hurt. So bad. It felt like someone had stomped on her spine right between her shoulder blades. With a groan, she moved her hands beneath herself, sending her cricket friend leaping away. Her arms shook beneath her own weight, her own weakness surprising her. She collapsed back onto the ground, a leaf crunching beneath her cheek. A single, golden curl fell into her line of sight, her eyes crossing as she stared at the foreign object.

Was she…still dreaming?

**Oh! You’re still here! How lucky! I wasn’t sure what I’d do if I got a new one.**

Choumei’s voice echoed in her head, bouncing off the walls of her empty skull. She groaned, long and whiny. Why? Why did she hurt in a dream? That was against the rules. Her back was killing her. _Ow._

 **Ah, yes, apologies. I needed to get us out of there quickly and I may have used a little too much force.** Choumei sounded remorseful, but he was bright and chipper again in an instant, the emotion strange in a voice as low and gravelly as his. Was this the fabled ‘gap moe’? **Still, you’re alive! All thanks to me!**

She wasn’t entirely sure she should be grateful for that. Every muscle in her body felt sore and over used. Her bones ached, ribs creaking as she breathed and head pounding in time with her heart.

 **Wow, ungrateful, much? This isn’t a dream, you know! Even if it was, haven’t you heard that dying in a dream means dying in real life?** Choumei grumbled unintelligibly for a moment before sighing. **Whatever, we need to keep moving.**

What? Ice cold panic froze her veins. Were those people still after her?

Newly motivated, she again tried to push herself up off the forest floor, this time managing to get up onto her knees. The white fabric of her pants was even dirtier than before and there was mud crusted under the slender fingernails of her borrowed dream hands. Really, when was she going to wake up?

 **Come on,** Choumei insisted, that weird _push_ filling her body with the need to move, again. **We’re almost there. I wanted to get us there on my own, but any longer and the body would have _definitely_ died. That, at least, I need to keep alive.**

…

Right. That wasn’t concerning, or anything. Yikes.

There was a fallen log to one side of her, its bark covered in lichen and cute, round topped mushrooms. She reached over and put her weight on it, pulling herself to her feet. She stood there, leaning on it, long enough for the sense of artificial urgency to start boiling over inside her, but her back hurt too much for her to move immediately. Her feet were like leaden weights as she tried to walk in the direction Choumei’s weird magic urgings were pointing her, every step like wading through molasses. Was this the part where she woke up? Please, _please_ , let it be that part.

Those hopes were dashed as she pressed on. Her brain was blanketed by a dizzy fog, her body bouncing painfully against the rough bark of trees and her sandals catching on rocks and roots alike. Her poor dream body would be covered in bruises, if it wasn’t already.

Seriously. It was super unfair that she couldn’t control her dream despite being so aware. Josué was full of shit. The moment she woke up, she was looking up a dream dictionary and looking everything up. Voices, ninjas, _pain_ , the lot. There must be some great prophetic mystery at work, she couldn’t accept it, otherwise.

She pushed through the foliage, twigs catching at her clothing and pulling the vibrant threads of the embroidery loose. Such a shame. It was really nicely done, too.

She stumbled. Too out of it to catch herself, she fell, knees striking something much harder than dirt.

_Ow._

**Aha! We’re here! I knew it was still around!**

Her hands were braced on a set of stairs, the ancient stone worn and weathered by time, once intricate carvings now little more than dips and impressions filled with moss and dirt. She looked up, gaze following the staircase up and up and up, the ruins of a building peeking out from the forest that had long ago reclaimed it. Roots wound in and around archways, in some places holding up more weight than the stone they’d eroded. Golden light filtered down through the canopy, making harder to determine where stone ended and forest began.

It looked like a scene out of the Jungle Book. Like King Louis’ palace. Would a giant ape be lying in wait if she climbed the stairs, desperate to learn the secrets of fire?

 **How fanciful.** Choumei laughed, voice once again sending agonizing pulses through her brain. **Don’t worry, little larva. I am the God of this temple. Let us see who is brave enough to face us in our own territory, hm?**

What.

“You’re God?”

Choumei didn’t answer right away, hemming and hawing as she carried him up the stairs, one painful step at a time.

 **Well,** he said at long last. **Not as you understand godhood, no. I’m not all knowing or anything, and I have a finite beginning. That being said, I’m so much stronger than most humans can ever really hope to comprehend, and my nature defies the laws they have written for themselves, so it’s easier for them to simply call me a god and be done with it. Or, it _was_. **He sighed. **Until _someone_ decided to defile the temple my father built _just for me_ only to rip me out of it and seal me inside a human. Really, it’s so nice to finally be home, you have no idea.**

That…sounded really familiar?? She’d heard that story before, she knew she had—which made sense since this was a dream and all—and _oh_ but it was on the tip of her tongue!

Ah. It was Naruto. Duh.

“You’re _that_ Choumei?” She asked, breathless from the steep climb. “The Seven Tails, Choumei?”

She could feel Choumei preening inside her mind. **Yep! Took you long enough to realize it. I was beginning to wonder if you had some kind of amnesia—that seems to be a trope your people enjoy.**

…

She was missing something, but it didn’t matter.

“Wait,” she began. “Does this mean I’m a jinchuriki?”

**Yep!**

Could a disembodied voice pop their Ps? Somehow, Choumei managed it. It was so strange, given his ongoing Batman impression, but his positivity was actually helping her through the pain _that she shouldn’t be feeling because this was a dream._

**You’re really clinging to that, aren’t you?**

She stopped, leaning against a crumbling wall covered in worn etchings as she tried to catch her breath. “This is totally a dream. Naruto is fictional, after all. Ergo, a dream.”

 **Hmm, I suppose I can see where you’re coming from.** Choumei sighed, the sound low and gravelly. **I must admit, I was very surprised to learn my reality is just a story in some worlds. How unlucky am I, to be bound to a world like this.**

He fell silent as they reached the top of the staircase, a stone paved area sprawling out in front of them. At the far end, a tall building stood half erect, one side reduced to a pile of rubble. It wasn’t just time that brought it down. She could clearly see giant claw marks in the stone, like something was dragged against its will, and a giant statue of a monkey was cut clean in half, its torso lying on the ground looking up at its legs forlornly. There were other statues, too, some of them in better shape than others, and she was distantly reminded of South Asian temples.

“What happened here?”

She could feel his sadness welling up in her mind. **They came for me. They took me and sold me to the highest bidder and sealed me away.**

Ah. She remembered a little about that, but she couldn’t remember if the anime had gone into any detail about it.

“So, it was Hashirama?”

**Tch.**

Ok. Note to self, don’t mention Hashirama.

It was a shame. Looking at the ruins around her, they had obviously once been a sight to see—they still were, but she couldn’t help but wonder what it looked like before the First Hokage tore it apart.

 **Come,** Choumei urged, tugging on her mind, again. **Let’s get inside.**

She followed his lead, carefully stepping over piles of rubble and eyeing the crumbling archways as she passed under them. A chill ran up her spine, that center of hurt between her shoulder blades flaring up with a hissed exhale through her clenched teeth.

**Oh! The wards are still in place! Lucky!**

“The fuck’s wrong with my back?”

 **Hmm? Oh! That’s where the seal is, duh.** **It’s pretty fresh,** he continued as she twisted this way and that to try and see the spot on her back that still burned with pain, the blue fabric of her shirt rubbing against it and setting it aflame. **So it’s probably a bit sensitive. It’ll get better.**

She pursed her lips, sucking her teeth in a loud expression of her doubt until she cut herself off with a small laugh. What did it matter? She was gonna wake up, soon, anyway.

She picked her way through a decaying corridor, patches of sunlight illuminating the path through holes in the roof. A little thrill filled her, a smile spreading across her face. She felt like Indiana Jones, combing through an ancient temple for cultural artifacts to steal from the indigenous cultures and lock away in a museum none of them would ever be able to visit.

Her smile faded. Yeah, no. Those movies really hadn’t aged well.

Harrison Ford had, though. Rawr.

Her less than respectful thoughts about her favorite actor vanished from her mind as she stepped out of the musty hall through another dilapidated archway and beheld the scenery before her.

It was a courtyard, tall stone walls standing mostly intact on all four sides. To her left, there was a large, square pool, a group of monkeys sitting on the wall above it and watching her with wide, dark eyes. Horses and cows with long horns—but not Longhorn cows—ignored her, drinking from the pool like she wasn’t even there. There was a large bull that raised its head and stared her down before snorting and turning back to the water.

It was a magnificent sight. The kind of thing that warranted a fancy painting. An idyllic slice of nature, making easy use of manmade ruins.

A look to her right showed a place where the wall had collapsed, providing the larger animals a way out of the enclosure and answering her unspoken question about how they managed to survive in a paved courtyard. There was a smaller building tucked against the wall immediately across from her. It looked to be in better shape than the one she’d just exited, its walls still standing and the empty doorframe relatively intact. There was a tuxedo cat sitting on the roof, licking at a white paw as the tip of its tail flicked back and forth with agitation.

 **Ah,** Choumei sighed. **They’re still here. I didn’t,** he took a moment, his rough, grumbling voice even rougher with emotion. **I didn’t think they’d stay.**

She reflexively raised a hand to bat at a buzzing in her ear, her hand coming in contact with an obnoxiously large beetle.

**Hey! Don’t hurt him!**

Oops. Smacking beetles out of the air was probably bad form when the Ultimate Beetle™ was living in her head.

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “It was instinct.”

The beetle she’d assaulted flew up to her again, coming to rest on her chest. It was one of those fancy Japanese fighting beetles with the horns and she was reminded that Choumei sort of looked like that.

 _You’ve returned,_ a teeny tiny voice whispered. _Welcome._

She stared down at the beetle in horror as Choumei started weeping in the back of her mind, his sorrow like grating rocks.

Of all things—the ruins, the ninjas, the _pain_ —it was the talking bug that drove it home.

Holy shit. This wasn’t a dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have any of you watched the show "Monkey Thieves"? It's about a clan of macaques living in a temple dedicated to Hanuman, in India. It was my favorite show for a while there. :)


	3. To Be or Not To Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That is the question.  
> Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer  
> The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,  
> Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,  
> And by opposing end them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, I've never done a chapter specific trigger warning, but there's a bit of suicidal ideation in this one. It's not in depth and there's no self harm, but it's there. Once again, my sister read through this to make sure I wasn't being a horribly insensitive idiot, but if you think I handled something badly, please let me know.

**You know, there are worse things than being my jinchuriki. You could be Matatabi’s. Or! Or Shukaku’s! That would be _so_ much worse. Can you even imagine? No, no, no, you’re so lucky you ended up with me! And I’m lucky I ended up with you! Well, not so lucky that Keiko-chan died like that, but definitely lucky I got someone who knows most of the story! I already shared as much as I could get from your memories with those of my siblings that haven’t been cut off from the joint mindscape—such a handy term, by the way—so they can take steps to avoid that horrible future that evil Kishimoto person wrote for us. Really, I can’t thank you enough for that vital information. **

Choumei prattled on, his Batmanesque voice totally at odds with his bouncy tone. She didn’t reply, choosing instead to stare straight up at the sky. There were no trees in the temple, leaving a nice big patch of blue available for her perusal. Fluffy white clouds drifted by on air currents too high up for her to feel, sweat beading on her skin in the humid heat and rolling down the side of her face to collect in her hairline.

Of course, it wasn’t really her skin or her hair. No, the entire body she was now inhabiting actually belonged to six year old girl named Keiko. She was Choumei’s original jinchuriki, but she’d died when the bijuu took advantage of the newly applied seal to try and get them away from the psychopaths who thought sealing a primordial chakra beast into a child was a good idea. Apparently, the strength with which he’d seized control was enough to yeet her soul into oblivion. He’d actually thought he killed the kid, but then she showed up, slipping on the body like a borrowed cardigan.

Except, she couldn’t take it off or give it back. She’d survived the same process that killed Keiko. Her soul had better staying power, or something. Which…she wasn’t sure how to feel about, honestly.

Was Keiko in her body, now? An apparently nonverbal six year old in her eighteen year old body was a hard thought to process. How would her family react? How would poor Keiko be treated? It was already hard enough for her and she’d known them her whole life. They would be strangers to Keiko and no one would have any idea what was going on. She could only hope that the somewhat conditional love she’d experienced would extend to the child that might have ended up in her body.

She looked down at Keiko’s hands, the rich, dark skin beautiful but foreign. After years of wishing, she was in a female body. Now, she was wishing she could leave it. While her life hadn’t been easy by any means, she was at least used to it. She had resources she could use to change her situation. Hadn’t she been about to start her college life, far away from the ‘friends’ and family who insisted on misgendering her? There were communities all over the country ready and willing to help through the next phases of her life and transition. She’d even reached out to the university’s LGBT center for a way to change her name in the system without her family finding out. She had plans. She was excited, if a little apprehensive.

Now, all those plans were moot.

And a little girl was dead. That was the important thing. She hadn’t been granted a new body through the infinite grace of God. No. Someone had died. An innocent child who’d apparently lived a life full of more suffering that she had, if Choumei’s ramblings were anything to go by. An illegitimate child born to the previous jinchuriki, a woman named Hotaru, she was confined in an underground prison until the time came for her to take her mother’s place. The first time she saw the sky was also the last.

It was so sad. She knew it was sad. Tears welled up in her eyes every time she thought about it. Still, she couldn’t decide if the tears were for Keiko or herself.

There was a part of her that, despite the circumstances, was actually a little happy. The surgeries for a full transition were more than she could ever afford in a million years, and her family would never help her. Now, she was in a body which needed no changes, free of charge, and her family would never be able to hurt or belittle her, intentionally or otherwise, again. It was, quite literally, a dream come true.

She squashed that little piece of her, shame bringing even more tears to her eyes. How could she think like that?

 **Look on the bright side,** Choumei interjected, his cheerful tone not at all welcome. **You’re a real girl now.**

“I was a real girl the whole time!”

His presence in her mind—another thing that bothered her now that she knew it wasn’t a dream—became much smaller, rolling up like a roly-poly in response to her white hot anger. She sighed, running a hand over Keiko’s face. It wasn’t his fault, she knew. He had literally zero experience with anything regarding gender or sexuality. He was technically a sexless mass of sentient chakra, after all. She could hardly hold him to the same standards she would a human from her world.

That was another thing. She was in Naruto. The fictional universe, Naruto. It was hard to wrap her mind around it and she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to. The Naruto world she remembered was bloody and violent and filled with war, aliens, and death. She hadn’t even finished the series because the power crawl was so poorly managed. A story about a kid succeeding despite all the odds being against him somehow became a story about reincarnations and gods, totally derailing any moral it might have had about pursuing your dreams. Plus, the running theme of not trusting the corrupt government which continuously pits people against each other was completely abandoned the instant the ‘good guys’ took power. Because the system was only bad when bad people were running it.

Blegh.

She was nowhere near educated enough to understand the repercussions of ending up in a world that should have been only fictional, but she didn’t need to be to know it shouldn’t have been possible. She didn’t belong in this world. She didn’t belong in this body. Maybe—

**Don’t you dare finish that thought.**

Choumei was serious, exerting his power over her mind to render her literally incapable of doing so. That was one of the many issues she had with him, but she was wary of making the ancient being handcrafted from the fragmented soul of god angry.

 **I won’t allow you to hurt this body,** he continued. **I promised her mother I would save her.**

“But you didn’t, did you?” She asked despite herself. “She’s not here. She’s gone. I don’t belong here and I really don’t think I want to stay. If this body dies, you’ll be free from the seal, too!”

**_Enough_.**

She shut her mouth with a loud clack of her teeth. Ah, she really didn’t like that. Having her autonomy stolen from her was such a freaky feeling.

 **I can understand your logic. The link between our minds makes it easy to follow your thought process, and my access to your memories helps me with the many, many, _many_ concepts unique to your world. _However,_ **he stressed the word, for the first time sounding like an ancient being of unimaginable might instead of a child with a voice filter. **You need to take a moment to really think about things. Yes, you’ll probably never go home, but is it a place you even want to go back to? The people there were cruel and unkind, your very family standing against you and others like you. Your safety was never guaranteed, even in your own home. Here, you don’t have that issue. Even if this body were not in alignment with your sense of self, there are jutsus and other techniques to correct this that literally anyone can learn! Even if you don’t pursue the way of the shinobi, with me inside you no one will ever pose a threat! How lucky!**

He was right. She’d already considered these things, herself. Still.

“This isn’t my body, Choumei. It’s Keiko’s. How can I possibly live here knowing I took that away from her?”

Choumei’s sadness welled up inside her, again. **You didn’t. I did. I made a mistake and used too much of my power on a newly sealed jinchuriki. I did it quite often in the beginning, you know, when they first tried to seal me into people. More often than not it was on purpose, too. I just wanted to go home. When they sealed me into Keiko’s grandfather, Keigo, I was just so tired. I resigned myself to captivity like so many of my siblings, and I forgot how easy it was to kill a human. Especially a child. I am so immensely grateful for you. Because of you, I can say I didn’t really fail. My third generation jinchuriki didn’t die because I was an idiot who forgot how much chakra is too much. So, thank you. Please don’t leave me.**

Tears were running freely down her face now and she rubbed futilely at them. She wrapped both hands around the cross hanging around her neck. She had no idea why there was a cross in Naruto, but she wasn’t going to question it. The old familiar comfort the religious symbol gave her was enough of a reason to excuse it, and she sent her thanks to Mary for letting her have at least that much.

“I-I’m s-sorry,” she stuttered out through hiccoughing gasps. “It’s j-just so much!”

**I know. I know, I shouldn’t have expected you to just accept it. I could have handled it better, I’m sorry.**

She rolled over onto her side, curling up into a ball as she cried. The stone beneath her was warm from the sun, moss clinging to the once ornate carvings that time had reduced to gentle indents. There was a cat—an orange tabby, this time—sitting just out of reach, paws tucked under its body in that iconic cat pose. It didn’t look at her, but it didn’t leave, either. It simply sat there as she wept. It wasn’t the only one. A weird dog looking animal waddled over to sniff cautiously at her hair, followed by an obscene number of offspring who watched as their parent investigated the weird intruder. Another of those cool beetles—or maybe the same one, she couldn’t tell—landed on her thigh, its tiny voice whispering encouraging words. A baby cow started munching on one of her sandals, tugging on it like a dog would a rope.

It was hard to stay sad when all of nature united to make you feel better.

With a sniff, she pulled herself up onto her knees, all the animals except the cat dispersing but not going far. She clasped her hands together and bowed her head, sending a prayer to Mary for Keiko’s soul. Surely the Holy Mother would look after a wayward child.

**Thank you.**


	4. Reflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who is that girl I see, staring straight back at me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where I say I am _not _a person of color. Someone called me one, once, and I sat there in shock 'cause, really, if _I'm _your standard for a POC, you need to diversify your life, sis. Christ.____
> 
> ____I am a White Hispanic who grew up in a majority Hispanic community. My entire extended family are on the darker side of the latinx spectrum, and only me, my siblings, and my mother came out white, lol. My experiences with prejudice and racism (both of which are tagged for this fic) are more vicarious, as people tend to look at my skin and my name and think it's safe to express their prejudice around me. So, when I write about xenophobia, I draw from my own experience as a second generation American Citizen whose grandparents and great grandparents were at one point illegal immigrants._ _ _ _
> 
> ____I'm telling you all this because our OC _is _a POC. Her skin is _much _darker than mine, and her hair is of the 3C-4A variety. My sister, ever my muse, also has hair of this texture. She's the only one in our stereotypically large family with hair like this, and I was witness to her changing relationship with her hair over the course of her transition. I am once again using her and what she tells me as a basis for how I write this character, but she's even paler than I am, so I literally _can't _use her for the eventual struggles our OC will have regarding colorism and racial prejudice. So, I want to invite you to point out any issues you see in my writing. Educate me! Call out my own prejudice! Hold me accountable!_______ _ _ _
> 
> __________I am using the[Writing With Color Tumblr](https://writingwithcolor.tumblr.com/) to help me out. If you know of any other resources for writing POC characters, please let me know!_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

The child in the water was adorable. She was little on the heavier side, baby fat giving her a cherubic look that the halo of golden curls only amplified. Her skin was dark with a warm undertone and it would probably get even darker now that she was living above ground and had access to proper sunlight. It was hard to tell without a proper mirror—and because the snapping turtle kept making his displeasure with her known, sending ripples over the surface of the pool and wrecking her reflection—but it looked like her eyes were fairly light.

So, she was a living trope. The POC with conveniently pale hair and eyes. Yue, Harribel, Tsume, and Scar came to mind, and she shook her metaphorical fist at Kishimoto for following that trend. Coward. *

She reached into the surprisingly clear water—careful to avoid the evil turtle—and splashed her face, washing off the dirt and grime that clung to her. She tugged on one golden curl, uncoiling it as far as it would go and smiling a little when it bounced back. Then she grimaced.

She had no idea how to take care of curly hair.

Her hair before was straight and she had to wear it heart wrenchingly short or else risk her father’s ire. She was glad to have longer hair now—even gladder that she didn’t have to struggle through growing it out herself—but she was more than a little scared. Suddenly having curly hair in her own world would have been hard, and at least there she had the internet and products made especially for it. Here…

**Don’t worry,** Choumei’s guttural voice cut in. **I know a few things! Look for these!**

An image of berries flashed in her mind. They were big and yellow, the kind of thing that might be used as decorative plants in front of a fancy building or on a university campus only to be immediately dug up for poisoning the local fauna.

**They’re soap berries! You can use them to clean!**

Oh, how useful. She’d never really thought about how things got clean before the advent of chemical products. She’d just kind of always assumed that soap was a thing. It was so integral to her life; she couldn’t imagine her ancestors living without it. But obviously they had. Right?

She pushed herself up onto her feet, relishing the feel of the stone under her toes now that she’d discarded the sandals. She was pretty sure the weird dog things— **Tanuki,** Choumei supplied—had dragged them off, so she abandoned any hope of seeing them again. The temple was full of animals, each group a representative of the nine bijuu. There were tanuki, cats, that menacing snapping turtle, a clan of monkeys, a mixed herd of horses and cows, and, of course, lots and lots and _lots_ of beetles. She hadn’t seen any foxes yet, but they were apparently more skittish than the rest. The slugs she noticed for the first time as she began pushing through the foliage in search of the soap berries Choumei promised. A visceral memory of Ron Weasley vomiting into a bucket rose unbidden in her mind and she had to muscle down a gag before the poor, naked mollusk was baptized in the cruelest of fashions.

Luckily, they weren’t nearly as numerous as the beetles. Those, she had to force herself not to swat away, especially when they insisted on clinging to her and whispering in teeny tiny voices that would never give her nightmares, no.

She was gonna have nightmares.

She actually had to leave the courtyard to find the berries, stepping out into the moss covered forest through the hole in the wall. There was a well worn path where she imagined the ungulates travelled between their pastures and the pool inside the temple, and she followed it gratefully until she found her quarry. The bright yellow was a splash of color against the sea of green, hanging from the edge of a long branch high above her head. So high. Way too high.

How was she going to get them down?

The trunk of the tree was tall with not low hanging branches to help her climb. Maybe, if she had a running start, she could use her momentum to reach the lowest branch?

**Or you could use chakra.**

Or she could use chakra.

She ignored Choumei’s snickering in the back of her mind. She grew up in a world where chakra was either a fictional superpower or part of a religion she knew nothing about. Could he really blame her for thinking of other solutions before reaching for the magic?

It wasn’t like she knew how to use it, anyway.

**But I do! Here, I can help!**

She had a bad feeling things would end up going incredibly wrong.

**Hey! That’s not very nice.** She had never once wondered what Batman would sound like if he pouted like a baby, but now she knew. **We can do it. Come on! Just pay attention to how I move my chakra.**

Energy surged inside her body, the hairs on her arms standing on end. Was this what it felt like to be electrocuted? It was gross.

**You’re so _mean_. Try and copy me! Go on!**

How was she supposed to do that?

**Try~.**

Whiny Batman is not a nice sound.

She huffed a sigh and tried to do as he said, if only to stop his whining. It was a half hearted attempt. She wasn’t expecting much, to be honest. She was a six year old, now, and that was the age Naruto entered the academy, right? An immediate success would be—

Pretty darned awesome, actually.

Choumei’s chakra faded the instant she managed to find her own, the energy weak and slippery compared to his. Which, yeah, he was a bijuu and she was a six year old human who’d never used chakra before. It felt a little like trying to catch smoke, the echo of her chakra lingering in her limbs when she failed to hold on to it.

Woah.

**That was a good first try,** Choumei said happily. **You can try again later. For now, let me help you get those berries.**

His chakra filled her, again, and she stepped up to the tree. She placed her hands on the rough white bark and was delighted to find it stuck like a suction cup.

So cool.

Climbing up was really easy, after that, but once she was in the tree she was faced with another issue. How to bring the berries back with her?

She had not thought this through.

Straddling a branch, she undid the wooden toggles holding her once pretty shirt closed. It would make for a decent makeshift bag, and she was gathering the berries so she could wash things, anyway! She wore nothing underneath it and she shivered as her skin met open air. Her hair brushed against her shoulders and she let herself delight in the feeling, shaking her head back and forth with a smile on her face. So that’s what it felt like.

Her smile froze when she looked down at her now bare arms. Two black bands wrapped around both her wrists, the ink green with age. Those tattoos raised so many questions, but the biggest one spilled from her lips before she could stop it.

“Um, Choumei? Am I related to Kakuzu?”

**Hmm? Oh! Yes. He’s your great-grandfather. Your mother’s father’s father. Surprise!**

Holy shit.

_Holy Shit._

“Holy shit.”

Kakuzu, the immortal bounty hunter who shocked the masses with his startlingly sexy face reveal, was her great-grandpa. The guy so many fanfics wrote as an eldritch monster, who ripped out people’s hearts to prolong his own life, who valued money over all things, was her great-grandpa. The second missing nin in the history of the Village system, the guy strong enough to be sent after the fucking _First Hokage_ and _live_ , was her great-grandpa.

**Yes, yes, you’ve made your point.** Choumei actually sounded a little upset. **He was one of your favorites, I know, but is this really necessary? He probably doesn’t even know you exist, and if he does, he doesn’t care.**

True, but that didn’t matter. Kakuzu was her great-grandpa! Sure, he was an asshole fated to die despite all his failsafes, but he was a named, recurring character! Before that instant, she had no ties to the greater Naruto universe. She was just existing in its world, separate from the plot in her temple shaped bubble. She hadn’t even thought past taking a bath, but now she was seriously considering her place in the drama that was probably unfolding while she climbed trees. How was she gonna live? What would she eat? What would she wear when she outgrew her clothes? Was she gonna have to learn how to be completely self-sufficient?

**Calm down.** Choumei seized control of her body, forcing her to slow her breathing and manually slowing her heartrate as heat flared between her shoulder blades. **Your clothes still fit, so don’t worry about it. There are people out there whose names you know, but they aren’t here, so don’t worry about it. If it’s not a problem, don’t worry about it. If it is, but you can’t do anything about it right this second, don’t worry about it. Right now, we’re solving the dirt problem. After we do that, we can think about the others, ok?**

Yeah. Yeah, ok. He was right. There was no point in freaking out about things that had no effect on her. One thing at a time.

Choumei let go of her involuntary systems, the burning in her back cooling as he retreated back into his seal.

“Still,” she said as she reached out to pick the small, waxy berries and pile them up in her shirt. “Why do I have these tattoos? He got his because he was imprisoned, right?” For a bullshit reason, but whatever. He got his revenge. “So why would a little kid have prison tats?”

She felt his anger pooling in the corner of her mind he’d claimed for himself. **Because humans are disgusting.**

She kept picking berries, a slight film collecting on her fingers as she waited for him to continue. This was clearly a touchy subject, but she needed to know. If this body was going to be hers, she needed to understand its history.

**When Kakuzu left the village** , he finally said, voice low and gravelly. **He left his wife and child behind. I don’t know his reasoning. I’ve never met the man and all I knew about him came from Keigo’s memories. I understand more, now that I’ve seen yours, but at the time…** He sighed. **The village was angry. He’d killed their elders and stolen their secrets. They couldn’t go after him, but they had a convenient scapegoat who happened to look a lot like his father.**

She could see where things were going. She sneered, snapping off a twig with too much force. “So, what? They took it out on him? Tattooed him even though he didn’t do anything?”

**Yep. And his daughter. And her daughter. All of you have been jinchuriki, too.**

Well, fuck.

“That’s messed up.”

**Yep.**

“He doesn’t even know I exist, right? Doing that to me doesn’t do anything to him.”

**They didn’t care. They needed something to take their anger out on, and after they sealed me inside Keigo they had a whole new reason to hate him. A jinchuriki and a deserter’s descendent.** He snorted, the sound weirdly human for all he didn’t have a nose. **Scum.**

She agreed. Poor Keiko. She didn’t deserve that kind of suffering.

She tied up her bundle of berries, twisting the sleeves and trying to plug any holes. “Ok,” she said. “Done. Let’s go take a bath.”

Choumei helped her leap down out of the tree, but the impact still sent a wave of pain up her legs and across her back. Oh, how she longed for a hot shower. Maybe some bubble bath. That would be nice. Alas, all she had was the square pool infested with an evil, kid eating snapping turtle. She wasn’t looking forward to bathing but being clean would be nice.

…

“Can I use that water for a bath?” She asked as she climbed back into the courtyard. “These berries won’t poison the water supply, or anything, right?”

**No…?**

Right. That was _so_ reassuring.

“How do I even use these?”

**Here! I know!**

Again, she was assailed with images. She looked through someone else’s eyes as hands larger and paler than hers with the same tattoos around the wrists poured dried berries into a bot of boiling water, mashing them up after letting them soak, then draining them and collecting the liquid. Huh. It was pretty neat. There was only one issue.

“I have to dry these? You didn’t say anything about that!”

**Oops.**

She ran a hand down her face as she groaned in exasperation. Madre de Dios. How long would it take her to make some damned soap? It was a basic amenity! Would the fresh berries work?

She ran over to kneel beside the pool, monkeys scattering in her wake. They screamed at her, which, fair, but she ignored them as she tore open her shirt sack and pulled out a handful of yellow berries. She plunged her hand into the water and pulled it back out, crushing the berries between her hands and rubbing frantically. Never mind that she wasn’t following the instructions. She just wanted to see bubbles. Just a few bubbles. Come on, bubbles!

**You know natural surfactants aren’t as bubbly as—.**

No bubbles.

Noooooooooooooooooo~~!

She fell backward, wincing as her back hit the stone ground.

“This isn’t fair,” she complained. “I just wanna wash my hair! Why is it so complicated?”

**…because chemical manufacturing hasn’t been invented, yet?**

“Hasn’t it, though? What year is it? How long until Naruto is born? He had shampoo!”

**…ah, well…it’s…probably…maybe…t-twenty years? Maybe less? I’m not sure, actually. Kurama is still inside his mother, but that’s all I know.**

“Then shampoo totally exists! Why am I playing around with berries?”

**Because the nearest village is the one that wants you dead?**

Oh, yeah. Right.

She deflated, her outrage leaving her in one swell foop. Why? Why was this her life?

She looked at the crushed berry mush in her hands, grimacing as the yellow goop dripped. She really was gonna have to be self-sufficient, wasn’t she? That was fine. Really. Choumei could help her, and there was clearly enough food around for monkeys to survive, so she, as a fellow primate, would be fine, right? Right.

There was still an issue.

She sat up and rinsed her hands in the water, yanking them out just before the monster turtle could eat her fingers. She reached up and tugged at one of her bouncy curls. The hair was actually rather brittle to the touch. She was pretty sure it hadn’t been bleached, but it was dry and crunchy. It hadn’t been cared for, she realized sadly, and she definitely wasn’t going to make it any better. The decision she made then was depressing. Finally, _finally_ , she was allowed to have long hair. Even now, it was draped across her shoulders, the split ends tickling her skin. She hadn’t even had to wait for it to grow! How lucky!

She couldn’t take care of it though. If she couldn’t keep it clean, it would be a threat to her health, bijuu or no. She’d had sensitive skin in one life, already, and she didn’t fancy having any of those issues, again—especially not without any of the fancy products she used to treat them.

Tears welled up in her eyes and she stubbornly wiped them away. It was fine! Really! The general in Black Panther was gorgeous! Emma Watson’s pixie cut was iconic! It was fine! She’d never had long hair, anyway, so it wasn’t like she had anything to miss! It was _fine_!

**Fine**.

She looked at her reflection in the water, the ripples from her tears distorting the image as the turtle swam below the surface. It was fine. It was a new beginning. A chance to do it right. Keiko’s hair was brittle and dry, clearly neglected along with the rest of her despite her mother’s efforts. _Her_ hair would be healthy and happy, just like her. Right.

Right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Yue is from ATLA  
> Harribel is from Bleach  
> Tsume is from Wolf's Rain (DO NOT WATCH UNLESS YOU WANT TO CRY)  
> Scar is from FMA
> 
> Here is the [TvTropes Page](https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/DarkSkinnedBlond) for the Dark Skinned Blonde stereotype.
> 
> [Soap Berries](http://www.thediysecrets.com/what-are-soap-nuts/) and [Soap Trees](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sapindus_saponaria).


	5. Little Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a quiet temple  
> Every day  
> Like the one before  
> Little town  
> Full of tiny beetles  
> Waking up to say~ 
> 
> *Unspeakable horrors whispered in adorably tiny beetle voices*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're curious about the kitchen that I describe, I'm basing it roughly on [Dianxi Xiaoge](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCQG_fzADCunBTV1KwjkfAQQ)'s kitchen. Watch her! She's wonderful! 
> 
> Watch [Li Ziqi](https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCoC47do520os_4DBMEFGg4A) too! 
> 
> I'm using both these lovely ladies for the basis of our MC's experiences. 
> 
> With this chapter the exposition is basically done! Tomorrow, the plot will kick in and our MC's name will finally be revealed. :D
> 
> Edit: I keep forgetting to say, but as of this chapter she's been in the temple for a month.

Life in the temple wasn’t so bad.

She’d struggled at first. Her 21st century sensibilities made living off the land harder than it had to be, but she quickly learned to set aside her more ridiculous hang ups in favor of, you know, surviving. So, she learned how lay traps and how to kill, skin, and prepare adorable bunnies and birds, her mother and grandfather teaching her through Choumei’s memories of their lives. She watched the monkeys for clues on how which plants were safe to eat—she got it wrong sometimes, and _boy_ was that a gross experience—and how to build makeshift shelters from the rain using big, waxy leaves, since none of the ancient buildings had roofs, anymore.

In fact, she was pretty sure the monkeys were going out of their way to show her how to do some things, some of the older females taking extra care to move slowly and where she could see without actually joining their group. It made sense, in a weird way. She was a primate, too, after all, and there was a reason so many scientists dedicated their lives to studying monkeys and apes. It also made her feel a little less alone. Choumei was…nice, but he was a primordial chakra beast whose only real understanding of humans came from her mother and grandfather and their evil village of doom. The monkeys couldn’t talk and she didn’t know any sign language to teach them, but they looked at her and saw a poor baby with no adults to care for her and took up the mantle, themselves. Granted, they didn’t exactly welcome her with open arms, but they didn’t run for the hills when she joined them at the pool and sometime the juveniles would join her in teasing the turtle. It wasn’t fulfilling, by any means, but it was something. Plus, she was eighty percent sure the animals in the Narutoverse were smarter than the ones in her world, because magic chakra~.

The temple’s inner sanctum was mostly intact aside from its roof—Choumei showed her how to replace the thatching, but she hadn’t got around to it yet—and it was a veritable treasure trove of cool stuff. Apparently, priests and other people used to live there, worshipping Choumei and tending to the animals which represented his siblings, so there was a living area that would probably make her life much easier once she figured out how to use it. There was an oven type thing built up against a wall. It was as tall as she was and had two round indentations that looked suspiciously like built in woks. The platform they were set into was hollow, the inside utterly coated in ancient ash. So, more stove than oven. Now that she recognized it as a kitchen, she noticed the withered remains of plants hanging from hooks and old, rotten baskets piled in corners and broken ceramics littered across the floor. If there was any food there, it was long lost to time or monkeys.

The ceramic jars were her favorite find, since she could carry things around and use water without risking the turtle’s wrath. There were a bunch of things she didn’t recognize, too, her Western perspective rendering the Asianesque tools formless to her brain. She left those alone. Knowing her luck, if she played with them they would end up exploding or something.

It didn’t take long for her to fall into a routine. Every day started out with a quick wipe down of her face and body—as sad as she was to cut her hair, it was so much easier to go about her day without it—and a sparse breakfast of berries and other fruits foraged from the wild. Then, she followed the game trails through the forest, checking the traps she’d laid the day before and resetting them for the next day. Then, she brought her ever unreliable catch back to the temple where she skinned the poor little creatures—blegh—gutted them—hurk—and chopped them up—geck. She’d scrubbed the wok things as clean as she could and she used them to cook her meat with wild onions and a starchy root vegetable that tasted too sweet to be potatoes.* She had no seasoning or anything, but the food came out ok after she figured out how not to burn it. Not particularly tasty, but palatable. Then, she cleaned up after herself and checked on her soap berries to see if she could use them yet—no, because _of course_ they took forever to dry—and prepared for the night.

Yes, life in the temple was alright.

It was also abysmally boring.

There was nothing to do. Every day it was the same thing. Over and over and over until she swore she was going to explode.

 **I don’t know what you expected,** Choumei sniffed, completely unsympathetic. **So sorry my _temple_ doesn’t have video games.**

A snide piece of her wanted to whine that he should be, but she knew that would be pointless. It wouldn’t do to start a fight with her only friend, after all.

 **How’s about you train?** **Your chakra control sucks.**

YoUr ChAkRa CoNtRoL sUcKs. Myeh.

He was right, though. At first, training her chakra was fun—probably because it was new and magical and not about staying alive—but now it was just another thing to put off. She could grab hold of her chakra just fine, and she could command it to a certain extent, but she couldn’t use it to climb trees or walk on water. The one time she tried to stand on the sacred pool, she’d blown herself back with a large splash. The turtle still hadn’t forgiven her.

Choumei, in his infinite wisdom, had restricted her chakra use to the basic exercise every academy student had to deal with—she stuck a leaf to her forehead and tried to keep it there.

It was so tedious. She hated it. She wanted to do cool shit. She wanted to walk on walls and run at the speed of light and break the earth with her fist! It wasn’t _fair~!_

**Ah. Oops.**

“Oops, what ‘oops’? What did you do?”

 **Nothing, nothing,** he assured her, tone not at all reassuring. **I just forgot something.**

That wasn’t suspicious at all.

He didn’t elaborate and she sat pouting for a moment, her back against the mossy wall of the inner sanctum. It wasn’t his fault she was so bored, she knew that. She’d lived a life full of instant gratification and now she didn’t even have books to read, let alone the mind numbing games she’d lost so many hours to. Hell, she’d take a shampoo bottle at this point. Anything, _anything_ , to alleviate the boredom.

_Sad?_

She looked at the beetle on the wall beside her with a strained smile, even though it was a beetle and probably didn’t know anything about human facial expressions. She still wasn’t used to understanding bugs when they spoke to her. Well, beetles. Though, most bugs were beetles, right? She didn’t mind beetles, especially since the ones in the temple were of the massive variety and didn’t trigger any ‘skittering vermin’ instincts. It was their teeny tiny voices that freaked her out. They weren’t really speaking. She couldn’t _hear_ them with her ears. It was like Choumei, only little.

And terrifying.

“I’m ok,” she told it. It was kind of cute of it to ask. “Thanks.”

_Sad? Larva is sad?_

Pfft. Was she a larva? In terms of life cycles, yeah, she supposed so.

Such cute things should not be said in such an evil little voice.

“No, I’m not sad. Thank you, though.”

_Sad?_

Well. It was just a beetle. It was already impressive that it knew what sad even meant, so she really shouldn’t have expected it to be smart. It was only a beetle.

**Hey.**

Oops. She forgot.

**Mhm.**

_Sad?_

“Help me tell it I’m fine.”

**Hmm, it can understand you. Maybe you’re secretly sad.**

“I’m not sad. I’m _bored_. Is boredom not a thing for beetles?”

_Bored? Larva bored? Need fun?_

“Yes! Larva needs fun!”

_Fun!_

The beetle’s back opened with a snap, intricate wings unfolding and catching the light like stained glass. With a buzz it took to the air and she leapt to her feet, following it closely. What kind of things did a beetle find fun?

The beetle flew out through the hole in the wall and straight into the forests. She almost lost it a few times as she struggled through the foliage on her bare feet—curse those Tanuki pups for stealing her sandals—but the beetle kindly waited for her, its shiny black silhouette standing out against moss covered trees and twisting roots. Choumei didn’t say anything, but she could feel his curiosity buzzing in the back of her mind. Wasn’t he a beetle, too? Plus, this forest was his backyard. Did he really not know what the beetle was going to show her.

The trees started thinning out, sunlight breaking through the breaks in the canopy and illuminating the otherwise dark and spooky forest. If she wasn’t a jinchuriki, she’d be scared, but she was pretty sure she was the strongest animal in the forest, so it was fine. There was a breeze that got stronger the further she went and she couldn’t help but wonder how strong the beetle’s wings were to fly so easily when she was holding a hand up in front of her face to protect it from the increasingly powerful winds.

Where the heck was this beetle taking her?

The question was answered when she came to the last tree. Literally, the last tree. It was hanging off the edge of a cliff, roots clinging to the stone face for dear life. Wind blasted upward and she was again glad she cut her hair or it would be a tangle mess, now. Her heart was thundering in her throat as she looked down down _down_ at the sea of green at the bottom of the cliff, tree tops extending all the way to the horizon, interrupted only by big ass fucking _bones_. It was amazing, sure, but it was also terrifying. She could fall and die! How was this supposed to be fun?

The beetle hung in the air, magically unaffected by the powerful winds.

_Fun!_

Ah. _Ah!_

Choumei’s laughter bounced around her skull, echoing her own amusement.

“Oh, no,” she crooned, voice stolen by the wind. “I can’t fly.”

_Fun!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *She's eating [Taro](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taro)


	6. Lullaby For a Stormy Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little child, be not afraid  
> Though rain pounds harshly against the glass  
> Like an unwanted stranger, there is no danger  
> I am here tonight

She should have fixed the roof. Like, actually fixed it. If she had, she would be drowning.

Water poured in through the gaping holes in the lazy thatching she’d put up at Choumei’s insistence, soaking the stone, her food stores, and her soap berries! When he warned her about the oncoming monsoon, she’d brushed it off. She grew up in the desert. Her only experience with the rainy season was a week of light rain, maybe a thunderstorm or two, but nothing like this! This place was green! She should have known it wouldn’t be just one storm.

Well, it _was_ one storm. It just hadn’t stopped in over a week.

Luckily, the temple was on high ground and wasn’t as flooded as the rest of the forest. The sacred pool was overflowing, but there were apparently drains hidden along the walls somewhere, since the water never came up higher than her ankles. The snapping turtle was most pleased with that development, the little beast. She took refuge on top of the stove, the woks filled with water and the stone bitterly cold where she huddled in the corner for warmth. Mushi, her little beetle friend, squirmed under her shirt. Many of the other insects had fled the oncoming storm, but Mushi stayed. She couldn’t help but feel guilty, since she knew he was only staying for his precious ‘larva’. He should have flown away when he had the chance.

She should have fixed the roof when she had the chance. Then, she wouldn’t need to worry either way.

Lightning flashed overhead, surrounding her with the sound of rolling thunder. It was so loud, she could almost feel the temple shake. It wouldn’t fall on her, would it? It stood for so long, one measly storm wouldn’t bring it down, right?

What little roof there was caved in, water pouring in and splashing everywhere. She buried her head in her arms, bemoaning her fate. She only had herself to blame, but it was too much! She should’ve listened. Now she was gonna drown.

 **No, you aren’t,** Choumei sighed, somehow verbally conveying an eyeroll. **He might, though.**

Poor Mushi! If he died she would never forgive herself.

**I wasn’t talking about him.**

The snapping turtle? He would be fine. He was probably snacking away on poor, unsuspecting animals caught in the flood.

**Not him, either.**

…A monkey? Had one come down from the trees?

**No.**

Thunder roared in her ears as she tried to figure out what he was talking about. The horses and cows had left for higher land ages ago, along with the insects and monkeys. She, the turtle from hell, and the slugs were the only ones sticking around—oh! and Mushi!

**Well, if you’d look.**

She lifted her head, looking blearily at the water all around her. It was cascading in through the roof and flowing down the slight decline and out the doorway into the courtyard where the pool had taken over. At first, she wasn’t sure what Choumei meant, but then lightning flashed, illuminating her home for a split second and leaving after images in her eyes.

There was a thing on the floor. A thing that wasn’t there before.

She froze, unwilling to move unless whatever it was proved hostile. So far, the only major predators she’d come across were the foxes and tanuki, and they mostly ran away when they saw her. The monkeys might have been a threat, but she wasn’t, so they were content to ignore her. The thing on the ground was bigger than the monkeys—bigger than her—and she had to talk herself down from a panic by reminding herself that nothing was bigger than Choumei. Lightning flashed again, and she got a better look.

It was vaguely human shaped, if a human’s arm could bend that way. The possibility that this was a person did nothing to assuage her fear. The last time she saw humans in this world, they’d tried to kill her. Was this a ninja from Taki? Had they sent someone after her, again?

Should she just let him drown?

That was a terrible thought. An evil one. But she couldn’t bring herself to dismiss it. She liked being alive. If all she had to do to stay that way was not do anything, then that was fine. Perfect, even. She wasn’t sure if she could kill someone herself—yet, she knew this world would one day ask it of her, but she wasn’t ready—but standing by as they died on their own? That was totally doable.

Of course, Choumei had to go and make her feel like a horrible person.

**He’s not from Taki. The wards keep anyone with violent intentions out.**

Guilt filled her, then. She would have let an innocent man die.

**Well, I wouldn’t go _that_ far. His chakra is too strong to belong to a civilian, but the fact that he’s lying face down in the water tells me he’s probably too injured to do anything to us. If you want to leave him like that, I won’t blame you. There’s no telling what kind of person he’ll turn out to be.**

No. She couldn’t. Not when there was a possibility he’d turn out perfectly nice. With a fullbodied shudder, she uncurled stiff joints. Mushi buzzed in protest against her skin, reminding her he was there and giving small but necessary comfort.

Cold water enveloped her feet as she slid off the stove, coming up to her ankles. Slowly, she approached the black clad figure, reaching out with shaking hands to nudge at his shoulder, careful to avoid the long pale hair falling free from a ponytail. He didn’t respond and she allowed herself a relieved sigh. Gently, she rolled him over onto his back and immediately jumped back, hands over her mouth to smother the shocked gasp that threatened to escape.

Anbu.

Lightning burned the bone white mask into her retinas, the red paint alluding to an animal she couldn’t identify. That was an Anbu mask, no doubt about it.

She stepped back warily and crawled back up onto the stove, almost falling into a wok full of water. She pressed her back against the cold, wet wall and watched him, eyes never leaving him as the storm continued to rage.

* * *

When Hatake Sakumo woke up, it was to an itchy throat and a fever. His clothes were wet and his mask was still on his face. He took a moment to be glad his nose was clogged. He’d been on enough missions to know exactly what he smelled like, regardless.

His arm screamed in protest as he tried to move, ribs echoing its outrage, and he laid back down. Through the eyes of his mask, he took in the room around him. Old, likely abandoned, and with a Sakumo shaped hole in the roof.

Ah. So that’s what happened.

He let himself lay there for a moment, taking advantage of the rare opportunity to rest without fear.

Naturally, the instant he relaxed, a sound reached his sensitive ears. He slowed his breathing and carefully kept his muscles loose as someone stepped into the room. He recognized the sound of bare feet on stone as whoever they were crept toward him. It would be painful, but his injuries wouldn’t stop him from bringing someone down. He couldn’t die there, he had a kid to get back to.

“Are you sure?”

And a kid in the room with him, apparently. Years of training kept his surprise from stiffening his body as a young voice spoke to no one, responding to words he couldn’t hear. The child was older than Kakashi, but still prepubescent, if his ears were right. He was glad he hadn’t attacked right away, but he was still on edge. A child meant adults, and he wasn’t sure he could survive another battle in his current state.

“I don’t wanna wake him up, though. What if he kills me?” The child was silent for a second. “What?”

They ran out of the room, footsteps fading quickly. That was worrying. He settled in to wait another moment for any other movement, but the child’s voice called out to him from much further away.

“Hey! I know you’re awake. Can you please get out of my kitchen?”

Ho?

He pushed himself up into a sitting position, looking out through a doorless archway. The child was peeking out from around the corner, big green eyes wide and fearful. Their blonde hair was short and their skin dark, the combination bringing to mind the fierce shinobi of Kumo. He had to reassess his last known location to be sure he hadn’t somehow wandered into Lightning, but no, his mission had been in the land of Earth, in the exact opposite direction. Such features were certainly iconic for the mountainous village, but that didn’t mean they were exclusive. His first instinct was to ask after their parents and make sure they were alright, but he quashed that paternal thought. He was in uniform, after all.

So, rather than comfort the clearly frightened child, he tried to stand.

Vertigo hit him like a ton of bricks, sending him right back to the ground in a feverish heap. Spots danced in his vision and his heartbeat pulsed in his ears.

“Hey, are you ok? You’re not gonna die, or anything, right?”

Despite himself, he laughed, the sound rough and painful. “Let’s hope not.”

“I thought Anbu weren’t supposed to talk?”

The question wasn’t aimed at him. In fact, it was whispered and likely rhetorical. Still, it told him a lot about his little host. They knew what Anbu were, meaning they were familiar with shinobi systems despite not living in a Village. They clearly recognized him as a threat, though they weren’t nearly as cautious as they should be.

All of this told him the poor thing was likely living alone in what were clearly ancient ruins. No parent knowledgeable enough to know what Anbu were would allow a child anywhere near him. Hell, if the child had family, he’d probably be dead.

It was a sad thing to be grateful for, but he had his own child waiting for him back in Konoha.

“What’s your name, kid?”

He couldn’t see them from where he lay prone on the floor and for a moment he thought they might have left. Then, after a long moment of silence, they spoke.

“Beni...My name…my name is Beni...hime.”

“That’s a nice name,” he said hoarsely as his vision faded, the fever claiming him. “Nice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last! She has a name! I will explain the kanji and why she chose it tomorrow! Tata!  
> P.s. Mushi means beetle :)


	7. Luck Be a Lady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They call you Lady Luck  
> But there is room for doubt  
> At times you have  
> A very unladylike way of running out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 紅姫 = Benihime = Red Princess  
> 恵子= Keiko = Lucky child  
> 恵語= Keigo = Lucky words
> 
> I'm gonna ask that we be respectful and not talk about her deadname. She may be fictional, but the people she represents are not. Thank you. ( ◡‿◡ )
> 
> Also, I keep forgetting to say how long she's been at the temple. As of the last chapter, she's been there six months.

Beni.

Beni _hime._

It sounded like a Japanese name, from what she knew. Lots of girl names ended in 'hime', since it meant princess and that was cute, apparently. It was really fancy, though, and she was quietly lamenting letting Choumei take the reins in that moment of panic.

Benihime, red princess. It was apparently a reference to red's pride of place as luckiest of colors. Keiko's name had also meant lucky, and their grandfather Keigo's, for whom Keiko was named, mean lucky words! Luck was a family tradition only her mother had apparently skipped out on—although, Hotaru meant firefly and in her culture, they were pretty lucky—so she wasn't mad at having a lucky name, herself.

It's just…red? There was nothing red about her! Not even her undertone.

Besides, she’d had a name! A nice one! She picked it out herself after long, restless nights spent pondering which name would piss her parents off the least while also being one she liked. She’d finally settled on her grandmother’s name, Beatriz, since it kept her deadname’s first letter and paid homage to the family matriarch.

Benihime was similar, she supposed. It also started with ‘b, but the vibes were completely different. She knew nothing about Japanese names outside her limited experience in anime, so it was definitely better than anything she could have come up with. Beatriz would have stood out too much.

Really, the only issue she had with it was that she hadn’t chosen it. She’d gotten attached to Beatriz over the years, had put time and effort into getting her friends used to it. Now, none of that mattered.

It hadn’t mattered anyway, given that none of her friends were even here, but still.

**If he dies, you can pick a new one.**

Yeah, no. He was alive and hadn’t tried to hurt her, so she wasn’t gonna go out of her way to hurt him, either.

**And yet, here you are, going out of your way to _help_ him, instead.**

Well, yeah? She wasn’t gonna just let him die now that he’d survived the flood. She stirred at the soup bubbling in the wok with a wooden stick she’d boiled clean, pulling out the bones she’d used to make the stock. The Anbu was sick, sniffling and coughing wetly in his sleep—and the best way to treat any illness was with caldo and VapoRub. Anyone who said differently was being paid by big pharma. She didn’t have any of the ingredients necessary to make a proper caldo de pollo, but she had rabbits, nutty potatoes, and onions. It wouldn’t be the tastiest of soups, but it should be filling.

It was a welcome change of pace for her, too.

Something scraped along the floor and spun, holding her stirring stick aloft, only to laugh. It was the turtle. She’d noticed he was missing from the pool after the water receded, but she was too concerned with the person lying prone on her kitchen floor to worry about him. Now, he was crawling across the floor with slow, methodical steps, evil eyes locked on their unwelcome visitor.

Oh, no.

**Oh, _yes!_**

“Don’t encourage him,” she chided Choumei as she ran over to the monstrous reptile, hooking her hands underneath his belly and lifting him up with a heave. God, he was heavy! His clawed flippers flailed around in the air and he let out the most hideous hissing noise in protest. “Bad turtle,” she told him breathlessly as she carried him out into the courtyard. “No eating ninjas.”

He hissed even louder and she was eighty six percent sure he understood her. She slowly lowered him into the sacred pool, quickly yanking her hands out of the water before he could vent his anger on her innocent fingers.

 **You should have let him do it,** Choumei pouted as she returned to the kitchen. **Can you imagine his reaction? It would have been hilarious.**

“That’s not a reason to let someone get hurt,” she admonished. “He can’t even defend himself.”

“Defend myself from what?”

Oh, shit. He was awake. 

* * *

Sakumo took in the child standing before him with clearer eyes. It was a girl child, he realized from her clothing, and likely from the western tip of the Land of Earth, if he recognized the cut correctly.

This time, he’d awoken to the smell of food. Before his brain could fully catch up with his tongue, he’d thought he was back at the inn, before the ambush that sent him running through the forest during the worst storm of the season. Then, his injuries made themselves known and he remembered himself.

The girl shifted her weight from one foot to the other, verdant green eyes glancing from the stove to the floor and back as she visibly considered her options.

Right. He was in her kitchen.

He smothered a groan as he got to his feet, the dizziness which had felled him before much weaker this time around. He was able to stay on his feet, at least, though he did sway perilously.

The child looked up at him, her mouth opening and closing as she debated speaking. Then, she turned toward the stove top—an ancient thing he was surprised still functioned—and filled a bowl with whatever she was cooking. She offered it to him with both hands, eyes wide and imploring beneath short golden brows.

He pushed the bowl back gently, smiling behind his mask. “No, I couldn’t possibly take your food. I have my own rations.” They were probably inedible, now, but he’d survived off worse.

Her brows furrowed and she pressed the bowl forward. “You’re sick,” she said, as though mentioning a shinobi’s weakness wasn’t taboo. “You need to eat.”

He took the bowl from her, the chipped red pottery warming his hands through his fingerless gloves. The soup inside didn’t look very appetizing, but he knew better than to insult his host, especially when she was being so gracious. She’d even turned her back to him—the action either bold or stupid—allowing him to pull up his mask and take a sip of the broth.

Well, it wasn’t the worst thing he’d ever eaten. He’d never eaten taro in a soup, before, and the taste of rabbit was overwhelming, but, with a few seasonings, it wouldn’t be so bad. Given her living situation, it wasn’t unexpected for the soup to be plain, just that she offered it to him in the first place.

He finished it as quickly as he dared, scalding his already itchy throat. Tugging his mask back into place, he stepped over to the girl and placed a hand on her shoulder. She jumped at his touch and he was about to apologize, when he felt a surge of chakra under his palm. He yanked his hand back just as the girl used shunshin to flee, disappearing to who knew where.

Damn. He hadn’t expected her to be trained. He probably should have, given how she behaved around an Anbu level shinobi. Children in his own village began their training at around her age, too. The fever was clearly fogging his mind.

He placed the bowl down on the hot stone of the stove and hobbled his way out of the home. There were no doors and it looked like the roof was currently being repaired. He felt a little guilty about his own contribution to the holes in the thatching and resolved to at least patch up the kitchen before he left.

How long had he been out? Had he missed the rendezvous?

The pounding in his head worsened when he stepped out of the house and into open sunlight. He had to shield his eyes as they adjusted and he leaned heavily on the ancient doorframe for support.

His ribs were definitely broken. His arm, too, if the constant pain and unnatural angle were any indication. He could set it himself but having only one working arm was a liability his mission couldn’t allow.

With a sigh, he again pulled up his mask, biting into his thumb and slowly performing the necessary seals. One handed jutsus weren’t his specialty, and he’d have to make up for that weakness the instant he got home.

He crouched down and pressed his hand to the stone floor, a sealing array spreading out from his palm. The familiar puff of white smoke didn’t come, however, and he sat staring at the failed summoning with mind numbing confusion.

“You can’t summon here.” He looked over at the girl where she sat beside a square pool, her arms wrapped around her knees. A troupe of monkeys occupied the space beside her, sitting on the wall and in the trees, watching him with dark, intelligent eyes. “The wards prohibit it.”

Wards? He hadn’t sensed any wards.

Standing was more of a struggle than he cared to admit, his good hand pulling him to his feet using the doorway. The girl watched him solemnly as he made his way over to the pool, her simian guardians staring down at him with the promise of violence if he did anything to their charge. He took a careful seat on the other side of the water, his legs folding into a lotus position, and propped his injured arm on his knee.

“Your name is Benihime, right?” His memory was fuzzy, but he could remember that much. “I am Wolf.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him, looking his mask over. “Is _that_ what it’s supposed to be?”

He stifled a laugh. Really, this child was too bold. “Yes. Who were you speaking with, when you thought I was asleep?”

“Mushi.”

“And who is Mushi?”

She held out a hand, the lighter skin of her palm facing up. A giant rhinoceros beetle landed on it, wings folding elegantly underneath a shiny black carapace. Its horn was long and pronged. Truly, a fine specimen of the breed.

“I see.” He didn’t. How could a beetle, no matter how magnificent, hold a conversation with a human? Unless it was a summons of some kind, or else a special nin-beetle, like the ones employed by the Aburame, he wasn’t sure it was possible. “And what was I unable to defend myself from?”

She dipped a toe into the water, yanking it back when an obscenely large snapping turtle lunged from beneath the surface.

“He was gonna eat you,” she explained. “Ch—Mushi said I should have let him do it.”

He noticed her slip up, but he let it slide. She was cooperating with him, and he didn’t want to threaten a child if he could help it.

“Mushi speaks to you?”

She smiled it the beetle as it crawled up her arm. Many girl children in Konoha would have been screaming in her position, even many boys, outside the Aburame Clan.

“Yeah. It was a little creepy at first, but I’m glad I have someone to talk to.”

That might also be why she was so willing to talk to him. Humans were social animals, after all, and children, especially, needed constant interaction with their own kind. He was a faceless stranger who could potentially prove a threat to her life, but she had treated him with more hospitality than he had a right to expect after tearing a hole in her roof. She smiled at him, revealing crooked eyeteeth, and a pang of parental longing overcame him.

He’d been away from Kakashi for too long. The boy was only a year old; far too young to be in the care of friends. Had his mother lived…

No, that wasn’t a thought he’d entertain.

He missed his kid. This kid was just reminding him of it.

“You’re trained as a shinobi,” he began carefully, not wanting to spook her. Perhaps it would be best to treat her the way he did Kakashi. “Did you learn that all on your own? That’s incredible.”

Her expression twisted into something between a smile and a sneer. “Ah, yeah. It’s not there’s anybody to teach me.” She winced, and he had a feeling she was lying.

Even so, hers was the only human scent he was detecting. It was on everything and layered over itself many times. If another person were nearby, his enhanced senses would have picked up on their traces, but there was nothing. Odd.

He pushed himself to his feet and she mirrored the movement, her beetle friend settled on her shoulder. He bowed stiffly.

“Thank you for your help, Benihime-chan. I might not have made it without you. If there is anything you need from me, please ask now, as I don’t know if I will ever come this way, again.”

He straightened, heart decidedly _not_ pained by the look of panic on her face. She bit at her full bottom lip, green eyes flitting from focus to focus. Then, she pointed a finger at him.

“Stay there! Don’t move! The turtle will eat you if you do!”

It was a childish threat, but, a slight chill still ran down his spine as he watched the beast follow underneath her as she ran across the surface of the water. She rushed across the courtyard and disappeared into her home.

He was tempted to disappear, himself, but imagining the look on her face when she came back to find him gone kept his rooted in place. That, and the snapping turtle glaring up at him with a hungry smirk.

She came back out with her hands clasped tightly to her chest. She seemed a little surprised to see him and a pang of guilt ran through him for even considering leaving. This was a child. Not an enemy nin or even an adult civilian. A child in dire need of human interaction.

She ran up to him and smiled breathlessly, holding her hands out. Nestled there was a set of golden earrings, the bottoms of the hoops decorated with fine golden lace in the fashion common in that part of Earth. She smiled sheepishly.

“Can you pierce my ears? I’m too scared to do it myself.”

Ah, this was cute. So cute. He was so glad he was wearing a mask or she’d know exactly how cute he found her. Adorable. It was killing him.

“Of course,” he said as he took the earrings from her. “I thought you might want me to fix the hole I put in your roof, though.”

She ducked her head and pursed her lips. “It was already like that. You didn’t do anything, honest.”

That was even more concerning. Child. How have you lived?

He knelt down in front of her, using his one good hand to undo the latch on the earring and press it against the delicate flesh of her earlobe. He’d never pierced anyone’s ears, but he’s stabbed plenty of people with senbon, and the skill clearly transferred. The thin wire passed through her ear so smoothly, she didn’t even notice until he started on the other one, her face screwed up tightly against the pain.

“There,” he said, stepping back. There was blood on his hands, and he idly wiped it onto his black clothing. “I’ll be going now.”

She looked a bit disappointed, but she cocked her head, newly pierced ear bent toward the beetle on her shoulder as though listening. She nodded at something Sakumo couldn’t hear.

“If you die out there, it’s not my fault.”

Of all the things to say…

He huffed a small laugh behind his mask. “Of course, not. Have a good life kid.”

As he left the ruins behind, it belatedly occurred to him that he could have offered to take her with him. Turning around, there was nothing but trees behind him.

* * *

“This is an interesting report, Wolf,” Sarutobi Hiruzen said to one of his most elite agents, the report in question sitting on his desk. “A child living alone in the wilds of Earth Country is strange enough, but this potential kekkei genkai you’ve described is something else.”

The masked shinobi nodded his head. “I understand, sir. It is only conjecture based on my conversation with the girl, but with the Aburame Clan standing as precedent for such an ability, I thought it prudent to add.”

The Third Hokage nodded, leaning back in his chair and gnawing on the tip of his pipe. The tobacco wasn’t lit, but it was a habit he was much too old to break. “You did well to include it, Wolf. I’m not holding that against you. Have you marked the ruins’ general location?”

“Yes, Lord Hokage.”

“Good. If I have another team heading in that direction, I’ll be sure to let them know about the possibility of a child in need of assistance. You may return to your own child, now,” there was a twinkle in the old man’s eye. “He’s quite precocious, that Kakashi. It will do you both good to be in each other’s company, again.”

“Thank you, Lord Hokage.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taki is in "an unnamed nation" according to the wiki, but that doesn't make sense. Nobody knows where Taki is except for Taki, so I'm saying that the "unnamed nation" that the [Naruto Maps](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/naruto/images/3/3e/Naruto_World_Map.svg/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/700?cb=20110114161251) chart out is actually an extension of the Land of Earth. If nobody knows it's there, then nobody can get mad at Earth for having two villages. ╮(︶▽︶)╭ 
> 
> Beni has [yaeba teeth](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/proxy/yc-ePlLiI2kcMBbaG5Cu-Hnf7b_NZ2DNd6r_ngYqZQ9dUg5a1lCatQsXDJ_2LDK7Uw0cyMCA5mMBKyQ060miPXi7HwhCRsc5Il9Biep7y35ERdjIMhd_Nk6XJwYsp6KE4DYmbwF-8mrMnObYnD9mRIyi2BnI40IDlvWtnP4gn0nMRyIURaN4dg)! I think they're so cute! (≧◡≦) ♡
> 
> Surprise! Beni is older than Kakashi! That man's timeline is all kinds of whack, so I'm gonna do my own thing. I'll explain more when he actually shows up!


	8. Once Bitten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twice shy  
> I keep my distance  
> But you still catch my eye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. I forgot about the earrings. I swear, they were there the whole time. I just kept forgetting to mention them. They were originally gonna already be in her ears, but I like how that scene with Sakumo turned out, so maybe it was for the best.
> 
> Edit: I forgot to say it's been maybe two months since Sakumo's visit! Our dear Beni-chan has been in the temple for 8 months, now!

“Well, this is nice.”

Inoichi threw a glare at Shikaku, his teammate pointedly avoiding his gaze. Nice. They were lost in a green hell of a forest and he called it nice. They had vital information to deliver to the frontlines on the border that would help save hundreds of lives, information hard won from far behind Iwa’s borders. If they couldn’t get out of the infernal forest, people would die.

“I agree,” Chouza said, smiling when Inoichi whipped his head around to stare at him, open mouthed. “The weather is a pleasant change.”

Sure. Ok. If they had to go through all this nonsense in knee deep snow, it would definitely be worse. This backwater corner of Earth Country was ironically more temperate than much of the Land of Fire and Konoha itself was probably smothered in snow. Still, that only meant that the summers here were likely abysmal.

“Can you two be serious?” Inoichi hissed, pupiless eyes searching the shadows between the trees for hidden enemies. “This isn’t the time for your idiocy.”

Shikaku’s shoulder’s slumped, his usual disinterested expression tinged by a bit of unease. “Ease up, Ino. We know it’s important, ok? This forest is creepy and we haven’t found a single landmark. The maps are useless. We’re going to die and our bodies will fertilize these monster trees.”

…

Inoichi and Chouza exchanged worried glances. Shikaku’s pessimism had worsened since the war started, and his impending marriage hadn’t helped. Inoichi quirked an eyebrow at the tallest member of their team, indicating he should do something. Chouza sighed.

“Give me the map,” he said, reaching out to take the paper from Shikaku’s tightly clenched hands. “There must be something we can use to orient ourselves.”

“There’s nothing.” Shikaku shook his head angrily. “Just those ruins the Hokage says one of his Anbu. Nobody’s been able to find it, since, though. It was probably a hallucination caused by this stupid forest.”

It wasn’t that hard to believe. Inoichi’s work in Torture and Investigation and his own Clan’s studies of the human mind told him that too long in the forest—carpeted in green moss, no animal calls in the air, the tepid temperature despite the winter season—could definitely have strange effects on people. Although, the Anbu were elite and trained to withstand greater stresses than they were, so it was a little harder to believe one imagined the ruins the Hokage added to the maps of the region.

“You mean those ruins?” Inoichi and Shikaku turned to look where Chouza pointed. Indeed, only a stone’s throw away, large stone slabs rose from the moss, a tall, crumbling staircase rising into the trees.

Where the hell had that come from?

“We’re going crazy,” Shikaku lamented with a long, drawn out sigh. “It’s a shared hallucination.”

“I don’t know,” Chouza said skeptically, walking forward to stand on the stairs. “It feels pretty real to me.”

“How odd. There was nothing here two seconds ago.” Inoichi placed a hand on the ancient stone, feeling the indentations of carvings long worn to nothingness under his fingers. “Did Sakumo-senpai say anything about a genjutsu?”

“No, but he did mention wards.” Shikaku had shed his nihilism for the moment, dark eyes glinting as his mind worked. “He couldn’t summon while inside.”

Anti-summoning wards? Those were few and far between, used only in the innermost chambers of Konoha’s prison system. Prisoner of war were interrogated there, and the last thing anyone wanted was one of them summoning an animal or—even worse—their comrades into the heart of Konoha. Such wards were restricted for military use, though, so finding them in a random set of ruins in the wilds of Earth Country was rather unprecedented.

“So,” Chouza said, looking at the map. “We know where we are, now. Do you want to go?”

They should. The war waging on the border had all the hallmarks of rivalling the last two wars, combined. The information they’d taken from Iwa would go a long way to ending the violence sooner, rather than later, and the faster they got it to the shinobi in command of the fighting, the better.

Still…

“Oh, let’s just check it out. Two seconds, in and out, then we’ll go. We’ll need more than just ‘there were stairs’ for our reports.”

Inoichi nodded his head, Shikaku’s words providing the perfect justification for satisfying their curiosity. “Right. The Hokage wanted more information about it if we could find it. We would be remiss to simply move on, now.”

Chouza gave both of them a knowing smile, well used to their antics after so many years together. “Alright,” he said, folding up the map. “Let’s see what’s up there.”

* * *

Light glinted off the cross as it dangled from the golden chain—the same shade of gold as her earrings, the hoops tugging at her ears in a new and wonderful way and tickling the sides of her face. She’d found them in her pocket ages ago but hadn’t had the nerve to pierce her ears, herself. It was lucky Wolf had showed up when he did, or they’d still be collecting dust in the back room. They were family heirlooms, according to Choumei; a wedding present from Kakuzu to her great grandmother. It was hard to imagine the legendary miser giving suck pretty accessories away, but he was a different person, then. A loyal soldier who had yet to be betrayed.

The cross wasn’t really a cross, though Beni took great comfort in the similarities between it and the symbol of her religion. It was two cylinders, the longer, vertical one forced through a hole in the middle of the shorter crossbar. It was weird. Like someone had gone out of their way to make a cross from a pair of particularly fat needles. Why would anyone in Naruto have the need for a cross? Was it possible that she wasn’t the only person from her world to cross over? Had someone else needed the comfort a cross could give?

**Umm…I hate to burst your bubble, but no. Not at all.**

She huffed, wrapping her hands around the pendant. “Oh? Then what? Why else would a cross show up in a world without Jesus?”

**One could argue that Naruto functions as a Christ figure in the canon, but you’re right that the cross doesn’t hold the same significance in this world. That necklace is actually a weapon.**

…

The cross was small, not even the length of her little palm. What could she do with it? Give someone a mosquito bite?

**Pfft, no. You need to pull the stick out.**

…was it…was it…like, Inspector Gadget?

**Hmm, more like the pen-sword from Percy Jackson.**

Oooh!

Mushi’s wings buzzed under his shell. _People. People coming._

Aw. She wanted to play with the magic cross.

Wait, no. People. Why were people coming? She hadn’t seen a person since Wolf ran off into the sunset, like, a bajillion years ago. He’d only showed up because he was hurt and literally fell from the sky. The buzzing insects in the air told Beni these new people— _plural_ —were coming up the stairs, like civilized folk. What did she do? They couldn’t be coming to kill her because the wards would let them in if they were, so they might actually be nice? Oh, she wasn’t ready.

**It’s fine, isn’t it? They’re not here to hurt you. Plus, weren’t you just complaining about not having human friends.**

“Shut up, this is different! Not all cruelty is violent, you know. Besides,” she pouted as she put her necklace back on. “Hashirama still got in, didn’t he? How’d he manage that?”

Choumei was quiet and she immediately regretted asking the question that had plagued her for so long. She almost apologized, but then he spoke.

**He didn’t consider it violence. Violence is enacted against people, and I wasn’t a person to him.**

How terrible.

“But people lived here, right?”

**He forced them to leave. It’s hard to say no to a man with the mokuton.**

Yeah, she could see it. He was the ‘God of Shinobi’ after all. The only person who could challenge him was Madara and he’d gone unfortunately crazy. Those pesky sharingans, tsk tsk tsk.

That wasn’t the issue, right now.

“So, these guys could do damage even with the wards,” she said, channeling chakra into her feet and jumping onto the roof of the inner sanctum. “We should just avoid them, if we can.”

She settled in to watch the intruders as they stepped into the courtyard, her presence hidden by a genjutsu Choumei insisted she learn. When she saw them, she nearly fell from the roof.

Ino-Shika-Cho! That was Ino-Shika-Cho! What the fuck was such an iconic team doing in her temple?

She pressed down lower to the roof, her body flush with the thatching she’d finally finished. It was so much work but sleeping in a dry room made it worth the effort. She’d even taken up basket weaving to carry more stuff in from the forest. Choumei hadn’t quite talked her into farming, yet, but she had a feeling she’d give in, sooner or later. She just didn’t know enough about the plants in this region to confidently say she could do it.

“The reports mentioned a person lived here, right?” The biggest man she’d ever seen in either life asked his friends. His red hair fell all the way down his back and held back from a round face by a white headband. Chouji’s dad, no doubt about it. “Do you remember anything about them?”

Report? Fuck. Wolf was a Konoha Anbu. And he’d _tattled_. So unlucky.

**Snitches get stitches.**

She had to hold in a laugh that almost erupted out her nose. Choumei had really expanded his vocabulary over the course of their time together. Hearing sayings from her old world said so casually in the voice of Batman was so jarring.

“I’m willing to bet they know we’re here,” Shikamaru’s dad said, sounding almost exactly like his son one day would. “They’re probably waiting for us to leave.”

“Then we should take a quick look around and get out of their hair as quickly as possible.”

Yes! There was a reason Chouji was one of her favorite characters. His dad raised him right, it seemed.

“Now, wait a minute.” No~! Ino’s dad, don’t you dare be as meddlesome as your daughter. “The Hokage wants us to make contact if we can. Besides, I’m fairly sure the resident is a child.”

No~!

“A child? Living here alone?” Chouji’s dad looked so concerned. “That can’t be right.”

“It explains why they’re hiding, though,” Shikamaru’s dad said with a yawn and a shrug. “Three strangers show up out of nowhere; I’d be hiding, too.”

If you know that, then go away. Shoo! Begone! Or else be fed to the turtle!

Shika the elder clearly had a death wish. He walked right up to the sacred pool and crouched at its edge, dipping his fingers into the water.

“Is he stupid?”

The instant he whipped around, looking for her voice, she realized she was the one who spoke. Shit. She was so used to being the only one with a human voice, she just said all her thoughts aloud. You know, like an idiot. Mushi’s chiding buzz in her ear told her that even he shared the sentiment and she hung her head in shame.

Ino’s dad actually chuckled at his friend’s expense. “It’s not every day someone says that about Shikaku. I don’t suppose you’d care to explain why you think that?”

He didn’t know where she was. He couldn’t, with the genjutsu still layered on top of her like a magic blanket. He was aiming the question at the entire courtyard, likely trying to figure out her hiding spot.

It…it would be fine, right? They were Ino-Shika-Cho. They wouldn’t hurt her if she went down there, would they?

 **Don’t trust them,** Choumei insisted, finally saying something Batmanesque with his Batman voice. **That village is bad news.**

Of course, Choumei would be bitter toward Konoha. Hashirama was the one who destroyed his temple, after all, and gave him away to Taki like an inanimate object. Beni’s mouth twisted in distaste as she thought about Naruto. The people of Konoha didn’t treat jinchuriki like people, either.

Still, these guys weren’t the First Hokage. If Kushina still held Kurama, then odds were they didn’t even know what jinchuriki were. Right?

She knew it was a bad idea. She knew if she went down there, there’d be no going back. Still, hearing humans having a conversation awakened an ache in her heart. She wasn’t cut out for the hermit lifestyle. It was necessary and she understood that, but it was still pathetic that her fondest recent memory was getting her ears stabbed by a stranger.

Choumei sighed long enough to give yon Shika a run for his money.

 **Fine,** he said with an audible pout. **But if they turn on you, I’m killing them and then their children will never be born.**

Yikes. Ok. Maybe she wouldn’t go down there. Chouji’s life hung in the balance.

“Shit!”

Shikaku jumped away from the water’s edge, the turtle finally making his move. His friends broke out in raucous laughter, even going so far as to bend over or slap their legs.

“Ah, so that’s why,” Chouji’s dad said, wiping a tear from his eye. “Does your little friend have a name?”

No. Demons don’t deserve names.

She really wanted to go down and say hello, but fear—equal part Choumei’s and her own—kept her frozen in place. The words stuck in her throat.

What would she even say? It wasn’t like she could ask them about their mission or why they were obviously trespassing in another country. Ninjas were all about espionage, for all they were always having flashy wars. One wrong question and it’d be game over. Wolf hadn’t killed her because he owed her. She’d fed him and even rolled him over so he wouldn’t drown. Honestly, he probably _should_ have killed her, but something stopped him. She didn’t know what, but she was grateful. She only knew this version of Ino-Shika-Cho from the few times they showed up in the show, and these guys weren’t them, yet. They had another…what was it Choumei said? Twenty years? She knew who they would become, but not who they were. It was better not to chance it.

She watched as the men calmed down and began searching the courtyard. She tensed as they entered her home, desperate to know what they were doing in there but terrified of moving and revealing her spot on the roof. They kept calling out to her, Chouji’s dad, especially, trying to speak with her.

It was tempting. So, _so_ tempting. The threat of violence kept her in place until they left the way they’d come, out the door like proper humans. Even then, she waited for Mushi’s surveillance beetles to give the all clear before she rushed inside to see what they might have done. Everything was as she left it, except for a white cloth bag sitting on the stone top of her stove.

She crept up to it, fully expecting some kind of trap, but nothing happened when she poked it. Tentatively, she opened it and a smile took over her face as she recognized the smell of sugar. Inside the bag were brightly colored spikey balls, no bigger than her fingernails. They were so cute!

**They might be poisoned.**

She tossed one in her mouth, anyway, and relished the sugar melting on her tongue. If it was poison, it was the tastiest kind.

* * *

“You did well retrieving that information,” the Hokage said around the shaft of his pipe. “Thanks to you, we were able to avoid the trap Iwa was setting for us.”

The Ino-Shika-Cho team nodded their heads at his praise and he lifted a page of their report from his desk.

“I see you managed to find the ruins agent Wolf discovered. It’s unfortunate that their inhabitant chose not to interact with you, but I am glad to have a confirmation of its location. You suggest here that it may be guarded by genjutsu?”

Shikaku bowed slightly in acknowledgement. “Yes, Lord Hokage. The ruins were not there one second and appeared as though from thin air the next. The forest surrounding it is featureless and disorienting and, in retrospect, I can only think it is by design.”

“I see.” The old man leaned back in his chair, nibbling on the pipe he wished he could light indoors. Maybe if he did, Tsunade would come back—if only to beat some common courtesy into him. “That would explain why none of the other teams sent in that direction have encountered it. Though, I do wonder what made you so special.

The trio had no answers for him and he dismissed them with a wave.

Strange, that the child would speak so freely with a masked Anbu agent but avoid one of the friendliest teams in Konoha like the plague. Perhaps, some proper reconnaissance was necessary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The candy Chouza left her.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Konpeit%C5%8D)


	9. Let's Get Down to Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tranquil as a forest but on fire within  
> Once you find your center, you are sure to win

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's some info on the [Nyoi Bo](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ruyi_Jingu_Bang)

Beni held the cross in both her hands, her delicate new fingers making it easy to twist the vertical bar free of the cross bar with a tiny, almost inaudible click. The cross bar fell against her collarbone and she turned her focus to the needle like cylinder of metal in her finger. How was this supposed to be a weapon?

 **It’s the Nyoi Bo,** Choumei said as he gathered his chakra under her skin. **Father designed it for Son Goku, since he’s one of the only one of us with hands.**

Wait…was this the Monkey King’s magic stick?

**Pfft, yes! I’m telling him you called it that! Ha!**

In her world, she hadn’t really dived into Asian media the way some of her friends had, but she was familiar with Dragon Ball—the Spanish dub was way better than the English one, she would fight anyone who said differently—and had watched one version of _The Journey to the West_ or another. The magic stick which changed sizes to suit its wielder’s needs was something which followed the Monkey King through all his iterations. The tiny stick in her hand didn’t look anything like the magic staff of legend, but that was the whole point, right? Son Wu Kong, the original Monkey King, often disguised his staff as any number of innocuous things, often whipping it out at the last second to turn the tide of battle or get the jump on his enemies.

Although, if it really had been made just for the Yonbi, then how had it come to be around her neck?

**Your mother stole it.**

Ah. Cool. Go mom.

Wait, did she steal it from Son Goku? Er, his jinchuriki?

 **No, no, don’t be ridiculous.** He maneuvered his chakra through her body, the burning power stinging her insides in a way she’d become accustomed to over the course of their training. **Someone else stole it from Son before he was sealed, and it’s one of the reasons he was sealed, at all. It ended up in Kumo, and your mother stole it while she was undercover there. She didn’t hand it over after going back to Taki, but, even if she did, it will only respond to a bijuu’s chakra, so she was the only one who could use it, anyway.**

Wait, her mom spent time in Kumo? Was…was that why Beni was blonde? Was her dad from Kumo?

**Well…**

Before Beni could push the issue, Choumei’s chakra reached the Nyoi Bo in her hand, the contact sending it spinning like a compass needle on her palm.

**Throw it.**

She did, tossing it weakly away from her. It hit the moss covered ground with a ting and bounced, growing so quickly she blinked and missed it. One second, it was small enough to wear around her neck. The next, it was as tall as she was, if not a bit more. It clattered loudly on the stone, sending a cat running for cover. She walked up to it and found that it wasn’t just a metal rod. All along it, from one tip to the other, were symbols she didn’t recognize.

 **It’s the old writing system,** Choumei explained. **Father inscribed a blessing on it for Son. There was one written in the stone above the entry to my temple, but…**

Hashirama. Right.

If she ever visited Konoha, she was gonna deface his statue on that knockoff Mt. Rushmore, ala Naruto.

She lifted the staff with a grunt. It was heavier than expected. It almost seemed to hum in her grasp, buzzing against her skin and sending tingles up her arms.

“Do you know how to fight with this thing?” She tried to spin it but dropped it with an even louder racket. “I don’t know anything about staff fighting.”

 **Neither do I. But,** he continued before she could complain. **We’re lucky! Son is willing to teach you.**

Son? As in Son Goku, the Yonbi? Wasn’t he sealed in an asshole from Iwa?

**Yes, but no worries! That asshole hasn’t said a word to Son since receiving the seal. He won’t notice if we pay him a visit.**

…In Iwa?

Choumei sighed. **Just sit down. It would be most unlucky if you fell over and died.**

Beni pursed her lips but obliged, sitting cross legged with the Nyoi Bo laid across her knees. Belatedly, it occurred to her that they might be visiting in the spiritual sense.

**Ah, there it is. Took you long enough.**

Wait, really?

As soon as she thought that, her mind was yanked backward. It was like her brain was being sucked down her spinal cord to the burning patch of skin between her shoulder blades. Darkness overtook her vision only to be suddenly assaulted by bright, fluorescent lights. She looked around herself with awe and distant nostalgia. The greenish walls, the ugly linoleum floors, the rows and rows of red lockers—it was her high school! Even the horrible combination of male body odor and Axe body spray was the same, eugh. Holding the Nyoi Bo in one hand, she ran the other along the lockers as she walked down the hall, looking through the windows into classrooms she’d once sat in. She had to stand on tiptoes to do it, since she was still in her little Beni body, but other than that it was like she’d stepped right back into her old life—well, minus the people.

She even opened her old locker and was only a little disappointed to see it empty.

Why was she there? They were going to visit Son Goku, right? What did her high school have to do with anything?

The PA system blared to life, a horrible screeching noise coming over the speakers.

**Ah, oops.**

“Choumei? Is that you?”

He couldn’t hear her, it seemed, but he spoke anyway. **Will Beni-chan come to the football field? Beni-chan, to the football field.** The speakers fizzed back into silence.

…

Well, at least he was having fun?

She walked through the halls of what had to be her mindscape and out an emergency exit—she took only the guiltiest of pleasures in that—her bare feet burning on the asphalt as she ran across the parking lot to the field. Standing there, beside either of the field goals, were two giant creatures taken straight from a Godzilla movie. The giant insect looked like it had fused with a medieval knight, his head a conical helmet complete with slats illuminated from behind by a yellow light. He even had big, knight looking pauldrons from which six beetle arms sprouted. There was a weird decorative back thing where two horns not unlike Mushi’s crested up over his head. His wings were coming out of his butt, but whatever. Big scary monsters were allowed anatomical inaccuracies. He was supporting himself on a long, spindly tail, standing much taller than his simian companion.

The ape could give King Kong a run for his money. He looked very much like a gorilla with four tails—and, she realized with a grin, that’s exactly what he was. He was an absolute unit, with muscles on his muscles. His face was terrifying, too. Massive, black tipped canines hung over his bottom lips and down past his jaw. Hornlike eyebrows mirrored his fangs, reaching up toward the sky. His teeth were exposed and they were much sharper than any normal monkey’s would be. His eyes were yellow. Just yellow. Maybe, if she squinted, she could make out a tiny black pupil. 

She ran out onto the grass, panting a little with exertion.

“Choumei!” She yelled, waving one hand up at the monstrous beetle. “You’re so big!”

The insect bent over, the logistics of which she didn’t even try to comprehend.

**I am! Much bigger than Son!**

His sibling snorted. **_Only because you’re so damnably long. If you looked like an actual beetle, we’d be having a different conversation._**

Weird. She could hear him speaking, his voice deep but not as guttural as Choumei’s, but his mouth wasn’t moving. Freaky.

“Mr. Son Goku, sir,” she yelled up to him. “I have your stick!”

Choumei convulsed with laughter, his—admittedly, very long—body wiggling in a gross kinda way. Son Goku turned his attention to her, setting off all kinds of prey instincts as he leaned down on his elbows and brought his face much to close for comfort.

 ** _So, this is the one._** He turned to look at Choumei. **_You got lucky, brother._**

**Of course! I am number seven, after all.**

Son Goku snorted, the air almost knocking Beni off her feet. **_That’s what you always say._**

**Because it’s always true.**

It was so strange, watching giant monsters talk like human siblings. How anyone could think they weren’t people was beyond her.

“Mr. Son Goku, sir,” she began only to falter when he turned those freaky eyes back on her. “Choumei said you would teach me how to use your magic stick?”

 ** _Did he now? Well,_** he straightened, towering over her like the beast he was. **_Maybe I will. Give me one reason why, and I’ll consider it._**

“Because you’re the Great Sage Equal to Heaven and the King of all things Simian and humans are technically apes so teaching me would be an act of charity befitting both a Sage and a King?”

She stared up at him, her mouth pulled into a wide smile that was really more a baring of teeth. Her hands were sweaty where they gripped his staff and she tried in vain to stamp down the monologue running in the back of her mind which insisted he couldn’t kill her because this was her mind and killing her would hurt his brother and he wouldn’t do something as horrible as that, surely, and—.

He threw back his head and laughed, his open mouth exposing a tongueless maw which would definitely give her nightmares. He grinned down at her, once again setting her poor heart—did she have a heart in her mindscape?—to racing.

 ** _Alright, that’s a good one. You were right,_** he said to his brother. **_She is funny._**

She…wasn’t sure that was a compliment.

Son Goku once again lowered himself to be nearer her level and she kinda wished he hadn’t.

 ** _That weapon was made for me by my father,_** he said solemnly. **_It was stolen by humans who couldn’t even use it and locked away and forgotten. Why should I teach a human to use it?_**

Hadn’t she just answered that question? Well, she supposed he was looking for a more serious answer, one which would assure him of her nature. Really, hadn’t he already decided? He wouldn’t be in her high school football field if he hadn’t, right?

“My mother stole it back,” she said hesitantly, still a little uneasy claiming Keiko’s family as her own. “And she gave it to me. She could have used it to save herself but she didn’t.” Beni didn’t really understand why, but the motivations of the dead were their own. Choumei hadn’t shared those memories and Beni hadn’t asked him to. “I’m all alone. The only human who should care about me would sooner sell me than love me. I’m small and untrained and I’m barely able to feed myself. If it wasn’t for Choumei, I’d be dead a million times over. Even your staff I can only use because I have access to his chakra.” The metal weapon lay heavy in her hands, a grounding weight which kept her in the present.

“I don’t know how much you know about my life before Choumei, but in my old world—the world this building comes from—there wasn’t any chakra. There were no jutsus, or bijuu, or jinchuriki. Having lived a life without such power, I can’t help but forget it exists, sometimes. It’s never my first resort like it would be for someone native to this world. So, even though Choumei has taught me lots of cool things, I still don’t use them as often as I should. I’m afraid,” she cleared her throat to dispel the lump her emotions put there. “I’m afraid that, one day, I’ll need to fight, but I won’t be able to because I’ll forget I have jutsus. If I have a way to fight without them, to use my own, tangible strength, rather than a power that isn’t really mine, then I’ll feel safer.” She looked up into Son Goku’s terrifying eyes and laughed a little.

“That didn’t really answer your question, did it?”

 ** _No. But,_** his interjection kept her despair from settling in. **_It answered another one._** **_Very well, then, Beni-chan, I will teach you to use my Nyoi Bo. I’m sure it will come in handy once the war finally reaches you._**

Wait.

“There’s a war?”

Son Goku’s face twisted. **_Yes. The Third Great Ninja War. From what Choumei shared with the rest of us, you already know about it, right?_**

She did. The Third War would set the stage for the Fourth. Madara was out there, waiting for his chance to seduce Obito to the dark side. That…was all she knew, really. The canon timeline didn’t start until almost twelve years after its end and Kishimoto never went into more detail than was strictly necessary for his story. She hadn’t even known it had already started.

It would certainly explain all the movement in the area around the temple, though. Or, did it? Taki never joined any wars, that she knew of, so why were there Konoha ninja in its country?

She tightened her grip on the Nyoi Bo. If the war was already raging, then she needed to be ready to fight, if only to defend herself. Taki would be wanting their jinchuriki back, and Konoha was hardly the village to use as a standard for all shinobi. They were the ‘friendly’ ones. If others ended up in her temple, they might not be willing to leave after taking a quick look around.

“Please teach me, Son Goku-sensei!” She bowed at a ninety degree angle, the movement foreign to her Western sensibilities. “I will be the best student!”

**_Oh, you will be._ **

Somehow, that sounded like a threat.


	10. Revolution Calling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I used to trust the media  
> To tell me the truth, tell us the truth  
> But now I've seen the payoffs  
> Everywhere I look  
> Who do you trust when everyone's a crook?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Queensrÿche is my favorite band. :)

Tsume sniffed the air, loudly, in that way she knew Hiashi hated. Sure, she could do it quietly, but then he wouldn’t make that constipated expression, and where’s the fun in that? Shibi said nothing, as always, perfectly content to let his teammates rile each other up until they finally came to blows, at which point he’d say something insulting and they’d set aside their differences to unite against him.

It was a good system.

As it was, Hiashi was a little distracted, his byakugan activated and scanning the forest. They were, technically, on a mission, but weren’t they always? Since the war began, their tracking team was always being sent behind enemy lines to take out key players or sabotage supply lines. As much as she hated to admit it, they weren’t exactly a combat team. All the sneaking about was starting to make her restless.

Kuromaru growled back to her from his place further in the trees, confirming what she already knew from her own scenting: there was nothing. The blasted ruins the Hokage insisted they’d find were nowhere to be found, the puce green moss blending every tree into the other until her brain swam with it. If she never saw the color green again, it would be too soon.

She wasn’t entirely sure what the Hokage was hoping to accomplish, reaching out to a kid who clearly didn’t want to be found. Sure, her supposed kekkei genkai sounded pretty cool, but the entire Aburame Clan could talk to beetles. What did this one child have that he was willing to send his best tracking team to look for her?

Well, they were _encouraged_ to look for her while they _just happened_ to be in the area. _If_ they found her, they were to provide her with supplies they carried _just in case_.

Right. She wasn’t stupid, no matter what Hiashi said.

They weren’t having much luck fulfilling their ‘secondary’ mission. There was something wrong with the forest around them. The obscene carpet of moss aside, it was eerily silent. No birds called above them, no animals shuffled through the undergrowth, no insects—. No. There were insects. Tons of them. Beetles with brightly colored shells crawled up and down the trees, their antennae waving frantically, but they made no sound. They didn’t fly or hiss or make any of the other sounds she knew beetles could make. They just…sat there. Watching them.

Ok, maybe the kid’s kekkei genkai had some potential. If she could use this literal army of bugs to watch them, then she’d be great for espionage.

She turned to Hiashi. The twist of his scowl told her he had as much luck as she and Kuromaru had in finding the ruins. The map said they should be right in front of them and Ino-Shika-Cho described them as a massive stone complex. Something like that should stand out against such a monotonous backdrop, right? At the very least, stone smelled different from trees!

“We tried!” She announced, throwing her hands up in the air. “The spooky ghost ruins don’t like us. Let’s go home.”

“We cannot,” Shibi interjected, speaking for the first time that day. “Why? Because the ‘spooky ghost ruins’ are right there.”

What?

Tsume and Hiashi turned in tandem, looking past their teammate at the crumbling stone stairway cut into a hill that had definitely not been there two seconds ago. How?

She inhaled deeply. Yep, that was the smell of stone, alright. A glance at Hiashi calmed her irrationally rising anger. If his precious byakugan hadn’t seen it, then the genjutsu was just hella amazing and she didn’t need to be so upset.

Still, why had it suddenly appeared, and to Shibi?

Was it the bugs? It was the bugs, wasn’t it?

Shibi began climbing the stairs, leaving his teammates to trail behind him. Kuromaru ran up to Tsume’s side, tongue lolling.

_This was not here._

“I know,” she told him, reaching down to scratch between his ears. “Don’t worry about it, Hiashi didn’t find it, either.”

The Hyuuga sent her a pale eyed glare at the jab and she grinned, wide and feral. Ah, was there anything better than pissing him off?

The top of the stairs gave way to a level swath of cobblestone. A large, dilapidated building sat waiting for them, a fluffy grey cat watching them from the roof. It took one look at Kuromaru and arched its back, hissing loudly before running off.

Hmm, there must not be many dogs around. Cats only acted like that when they weren’t socialized around them, after all. Although, it was weird to see a cat there, at all. Feral cats were a thing, sure, but even they tended to group around human settlements, if only for the increased number of small rodents living in their wake. What kind of prey was that cat hunting in this gods forsaken forest? Beetles?

A quick inhale told her there were a lot more animals than just cats—plural—living in the area. Had those scents been covered up by the genjutsu, too? Why? What purpose would that serve?

They stepped out into what looked like an enclosed courtyard and Tsume fought down a wave of minor déjà vu. It almost looked like a shrine of some sort. She hadn’t been to one since way before the war started, but her mother had dragged her to one often enough in her childhood for the basic layout to be branded in her memory.

If she made the connection, there was no way her teammates hadn’t. Their Clans were way more traditional than hers and had their own shrines and gods to worship. If this shrine was anything like the ones she remembered, then there would be an alter or something similar for offerings. Wait, no. That would have been out by the stairs. It must have fallen to ruin with the rest of the building.

They were in the inner courtyard, now, a place usually forbidden to worshippers. The building across the stone laid yard probably once held sacred relics and texts. Now, it looked like it might have been overrun by monkeys, if their territorial perch on the roof was any indication. Another sniff told her otherwise, though, as the many scents of human occupation wafted from within.

So, there was a person here, after all.

She grinned widely. “Hey! Kid! We know you’re here! We brought you some shit!”

Hiashi sighed, long and weary. “Must you be so crass? This is a child, not a chunin you can play around with.”

She ignored him, stepping further into the courtyard. There was a pool of water to the left, and ripples on the surface told her it wasn’t unoccupied. There were a lot of animal scents in this small enclosed space. Was that pool the only source of water? That would explain why they congregated despite the mix of predator and prey. Water tended to build truces even between the most bitter of natural rivals.

“I see this is a shrine,” she said, pitching her voice so it carried. “I dunno what god it’s for, but I’ll leave an offering if you show me where.”

“Bullshit.”

She choked on her own saliva, pounding her chest to clear her throat. There were tears in her eyes as she turned to look at the wall above the watering hole where a figure was perched beside the cat that had run from Kuromaru. If she had to guess, she’d say the kid was around ten years old. Her hair was a crown of golden corkscrews, standing in sharp relief against her dark earth skin. Tsume’s first instinct was to assign her to Kumo, but another look had her reconsidering. Something in the tilt of her green grass eyes and the warmth of her skin tone set her just left of Kumo. There was some there, to be sure, but there was something else, too, something Tsume couldn’t place. Iwa and Kumo were allies, so a mix like this wasn’t totally unexpected. Still, she hadn’t been prepared to see it. The kid was wearing clothing typical of the region, but she’d clearly outgrown it. The blue fabric of her sleeves exposed her wrist and her white pants came to a stop only just below her knees. Her feet were bare and covered in dirt.

“What did you say, brat?” Tsume’s voice was always hoarse, her choking fit definitely hadn’t made it worse, shut up. “I’m being earnest here.”

“Bullshit,” the kid repeated, lips curling in a baring of teeth. “Get out of my temple, you Konoha fucks.”

Oh. _Oh._ Under different circumstances, Tsume was sure she’d like this kid. As it was, she kind of already did.

“Don’t be that way, kiddo. Are you mad because the last couple of idiots didn’t leave an offering? They’re stupid. That’s all I can say.”

Those green eyes stared her down. The same green as the sickening moss which blanketed the entire forest. The moss which swallowed sound and filled her nose with what she just knew was the scent of green. Like, the color.

“I’m angry,” the kid said, words slow and measured even as her tone vibrated with rage. “Because you think you have the right to offer anything.”

Well, that was just rude. Tsume was half joking when she’d brought up offerings, but now she was serious. What the hell was this kid’s problem? It was a shrine, wasn’t it? A temple? Offerings were standard, right?

“Tsume, shut up. Why?” Shibi’s expression was as blank as always even in the face of her glare. “Because you are upsetting the child.”

Hiashi scoffed quietly. “Did you expect anything less?”

She turned on him, a clawed finger raised to his smugly expressionless face. “You—!”

“Child,” Shibi’s words cut off the fight that would have ensued, and Tsume’s hackles lowered with the return to routine. “We have not come to fight or offend. Apologies if we have done so.”

The kid regarded Shibi for a long moment and Tsume watched as big ass beetle crawled up to sit on her chest. She titled her head as though listening to the insect before sighing, some of the tension leaving her little body.

“Fine. But only because Mushi likes you. And you,” she pointed at Hiashi. “Keep your eyes to yourself.”

Pfft.

Tsume had to bite her lip to keep from laughing out loud, the look of utter scandal on her teammate’s face tickling all the right nerves. Maybe that brat wasn’t so bad, after all.

The kid jumped down from the wall, landing on the surface of the water. Impressive. Especially for a kid her age. That wasn’t something most Konoha shinobi learned until after graduating from the academy. Although, kids were graduating a lot younger, these days.

That grim thought had her speaking again, despite Shibi’s warning.

“How old are you, kid?”

She stepped onto dry land just in time to avoid losing a limb to an absolute behemoth of a turtle. Damn.

“Seven.”

Oh, ok—wait.

“Holy shit, kid you’re tall as fuck!”

Hiashi sighed, again, even going so far as to pinch the bridge of his nose. The child, for her part, looked up at Tsume with wide, surprised eyes.

“Am I really?”

Tsume nodded enthusiastically. “For sure! I thought you were ten!”

The kid looked more than a little pleased with this information, a little smile playing about her full lips. It was a definite improvement from the anger and disdain from literally two seconds ago. Kids were fickle, though.

“Here, brat,” Tsume continued, hoping to ride on the wave of goodwill. “We come bearing gifts.”

In an instant she was on her guard again, gaze jumping from adult to adult.

“Why?” Her voice was tense and she showed more teeth than necessary as she spoke. “What do you want?”

Tsume pulled the scroll from the kunai pouch strapped to her thigh. “Why would we want anything? Can’t it just be a gift?”

“If it was from _you_ , maybe, but it’s not. It’s from your village. This is the third time someone from Konoha has ended up at my temple. The first time was an accident, but you guys actually came looking for me. That’s not the kind of thing you do while there’s a war going on. Not unless you expect to get something in return.”

Well, damn. The kid was smart.

Tsume crouched down and unrolled the scroll, busying herself with unsealing the supplies stored inside. When he found out about their ‘secondary’ objective, Chouza had forced them to include a lot more than the bare essentials the Hokage tasked them with. So, on top of some clothes—which might actually be too small, now that she thought about it—some preserved meat and dried vegetables, there were also cooking utensils, seeds, and candy, of all things. Tsume grinned as the kid’s eye narrowed on the brightly colored stars.

“The war is the reason we are looking for you. Why? Because it would be advantageous to have a safe haven behind enemy lines.”

The kid smiled, the expression small and unkind. “Yeah, I thought so. Take your shit and leave. I don’t want anything from Konoha except reparations.”

“Reparations?” Oh, no. Hiashi’s tone was harsh with disbelief. “Iwa started this war, you ungrateful chit.”

“Is that what your government told you?” There was a light in her eyes, something that reminded Tsume of the older, more disillusioned jounin. The ones who threw themselves into the most reckless fights and never made it home. “And you believed them? Swallowed what they fed you like a good little boy? Tch,” she shook her head. “You don’t even know your history, and you think you have the right to lecture me. Pathetic.”

A flush was rising in Hiashi’s pale face, his anger threatening to spill over. The Hokage wanted this kid on their side, though, so Tsume quickly intervened before he could ruin things.

“Tell us, then. What did Konoha do that you hate us so much?”

Those green eyes met hers, again, and Tsume had the strangest feeling she was looking at something way older than seven.

“You destroyed my temple.”

What?

“Explain. Why? Because this temple was not on our maps until recently.”

The kid snorted and grumbled under her breath. “Yeah, ‘cause Wolf’s a fucking _snitch._ ” She looked up at Shibi. “You, of all people, should know this. Mushi says your people lived here, once, and worshipped Choumei.”

Shibi flinched and Tsume turned to look at him, surprised by the overt reaction. There was an actual expression on his face, though it was partially obscured by his high collar and sunglasses.

“How do you…?”

He didn’t even finish his sentence. Damn. The kid got him good.

That unfriendly smile was back on her face. “Because this is _his_ temple, you dumbass. Did the army of bugs not give it away?” She shook her head, clicking her tongue in disappointment. “Poor Choumei. To be forgotten by his own priests. So unlucky.”

Shibi was uncomfortable. He radiated unease. Tsume knew basically nothing about the Aburame Clan. They wanted it that way and most Clans were similar so it had never really bothered her that she knew only as much as her friend wanted her to. The Inuzuka weren’t quite so secretive, but even they had things they didn’t share, so it was fine.

Except right now. Right now, it was not fine. At all. She had no idea what the two bug people were talking about. There was an entire layer of shit she was missing out on and she _didn’t like it._

“I’m honestly surprised the Aburame ended up in Konoha, at all,” the kid continued, sounding for all the world like a mother whose child had done the thing she told him not to only to face the consequence she said he would. “Seeing as Hashirama was the one to leave you homeless in the first place.”

…

The brat smiled oh so smugly at their flabbergasted expressions. “Oh, didn’t you know? Tsk, tsk, tsk. What do they teach you in those academies? Though, I suppose knowing your founder is a war criminal wouldn’t exactly help you swallow the whole ‘Konoha is the best’ bullshit they shove down your throats.” She sighed. “In the face of such glaring ignorance, I’m afraid it’s my moral obligation to educate you. This temple,” she spread her arms, the beetle on her shoulder taking flight and going who knew where. “Was built by the Sage of Six Paths, himself. For thousands of years, it stood as a center for culture and religion. Until, one day, Senju Hashirama found out what was inside it. He decided he wanted it and, in a single day, destroyed it. One man’s greed outweighed an entire region’s cultural heritage. That is Konoha’s legacy. If you want to buy my loyalty, I’m afraid you’ll have to pay your debts, first. _Plus interest._ ”

* * *

Hiruzen sighed, smoke billowing out from his mouth. He’d read the report in his hands a million times, it seemed, but he still couldn’t quite understand what was written there. If the Aburame Clan Head hadn’t come to speak with him privately about their relationship with a god named Choumei, he might have dismissed the girl’s tale as just that. A fantasy. A mad grab for power by an isolated child without any. Part of him was still tempted to do so, but the shaken looks on the team’s faces told him it wouldn’t go over well.

Still, it was hard to verify her claims. There was nothing in the records about Hashirama destroying a temple in the Land of Earth. Not even a single mention of what he might have taken from it, either. That…wasn’t actually surprising. When Tobirama-sensei took over, he’d personally overseen a…purge, of sorts. The village was in danger of dissipating, internal conflict threatening to tear it apart at the seams. Certain facts were erased and forgotten to ensure social cohesion. It was one of the sacrifices a Hokage was expected to make. The survival of the village came before all.

He took another long draught from his pipe, having finally given in to the cravings which only increased with every passing day. If Tsunade wanted to yell at him for smoking indoors, she’d have to come back to do it, and he was finally coming to accept that she never would.

What to do, what to do…

The temple was in a good place for a base within Earth’s borders and the genjutsus protecting it would go a long way to funneling in men and resources past the frontlines. Now that he knew it was there, he couldn’t just pass it up. If the child could be persuaded to aid them of her own volition, then that would be best. If not…

Well, she was only one child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SuuItosukai, you called it, lol


	11. That Don't Impress Me Much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've known a few guys who thought they were pretty smart  
> But you've got being right down to an art  
> You think you're a genius, you drive me up the wall  
> You're a regular original, a know-it-all  
> Oh, oh, you think you're special  
> Oh, oh, you think you're something else  
> Okay, so you're Sasuke's dad  
> That don't impress me much

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all. NaNoWriMo's goal is 50k in a month. I'm 11 days in and I'm halfway there. Eep.

Uchiha Mikoto ducked behind a tree, willing her ragged breathing to silence. She cradled Fugaku’s head against her chest, his shallow inhales the only thing keeping her from panicking. His wet hair stuck to her clothing, the blood flowing from his head wound soaking the black fabric. If the Iwa scum following them had a scent tracker, it was all over.

And to think, only three days ago, she was so happy to be out on the frontlines under his command. Finally, a chance to rekindle the bond she’d worked so hard to establish. Sure, they were already engaged to be married, but that was no reason to slack off! Her mother was always filling her head with horror stories about affairs started on the battlefield, men finding comfort elsewhere while their women were stuck holding down the fort back home. She was nervous wreck, reading between the lines of every two word letter he sent her. When she was selected as part of an all Uchiha team to reinforce Konoha’s steady advance into Iwa territory, she was ecstatic. Fugaku was much more reserved than she was, by a _lot_ , so he didn’t express the same joy at their reunion as she did, but she was used to that. She knew what kind of man he was, so she was already prepared for a cold welcome. Besides, he had a reputation to maintain. As the future head of the Clan and Chief of Police, a certain gravitas was expected from him. That was fine. She knew that.

Honestly, she was happy to see him again. She’d missed that grumpy scowl of his, though she’d be lying if she said she wouldn’t like a smile, instead, just once.

Now, she’d be satisfied with never getting a smile, ever, so long as he lived. Please, gods, let him live.

The forest was a maze, every tree looking exactly like the last. It was Fugaku’s chief annoyance as he tried to coordinate Konoha’s command of the region, but, now, it might just save his life.

The ambush on the supply line hadn’t really needed his personal attention. The caravans were always under threat, and Iwa nin attacked at least one every day. Konoha had reduced their resistance to a poorly managed battle of attrition, with stragglers left behind after Iwa’s last major retreat harrying Konoha like so many annoying mosquitos. Fugaku really didn’t need to go and see the damage for himself. He didn’t need to follow the very obvious trail laid by the ambushers. He should have just left well enough alone, but she could understand his frustration. If Konoha wanted to maintain control of the region, then there couldn’t be resistance on their rear. Wiping them out in one fell swoop would have gone a long way to closing that gap.

If it wasn’t for that blond with the explosive clay…

Fugaku groaned, eyelids flickering as he tried to move. She placed a hand over his mouth, his blood wetting her palm.

“Shh. Be still. I have you.”

He did calm at the sound of her voice and she let herself take a little pleasure in that. Surely, he wouldn’t react like that for anyone else? She leaned over and looked around the trunk of the tree, dreading the thought that their pursuers would be right there, waiting for them to reveal themselves.

They weren’t, but she wasn’t sure what to think of what _was_ there. Was that…the temple marked on their maps? When Mikoto was deployed, she was given a brief explanation about a magical temple that might show itself to her and a devilish Iwa child whose words were not to be trusted. Of course, the odds of it actually appearing were incredibly slim since it hadn’t been encountered in almost six months, despite numerous attempts to confirm its location.

Well, she wasn’t about to question the magic teleporting temple when it was kind enough to appear out of thin air right when she needed it. Hooking an arm under Fugaku’s shoulder, she began climbing the stairs as quickly as she dared. Hopefully, there would be no Iwa forces lying in wait at the top.

The temple was actually rather empty. There was a cat looking down at them from a crumbling roof—scratch that, there were three cats. The Uchiha compound had plenty of cats running around underfoot, their contract with the cat summons creating a tight bond between human and feline. Seeing them put a small part of her at ease, and she nodded up at them in greeting. A tuxedo cat jumped down from its perch and yowled at her, the feral animal unaccustomed to using its voice to communicate with humans like its domesticated kin. It trotted away, only to stop just inside the one remaining doorway of the dilapidated building and call back to her.

She followed it, trusting her Clan animal to do her right. It led her through a dusty hallway lit by gaping holes in the walls and ceiling. She had to go slowly, careful to watch her step. Loose stone and debris littered the floor, the remains of once beautiful statues and carvings threatening to send her and Fugaku to the ground with one misstep.

The instant she pulled her fiancé out into the open air, the cat ran across a stone paved courtyard and leapt onto the roof of another building. Mikoto barely had time to take in the herd of cattle drinking from a square pool before another set of hands was reaching for Fugaku, taking some of his weight.

“The beetles told me you were coming,” the child said as she pulled both Uchiha across the courtyard and into what was apparently her house. There was a handwoven reed mat on the floor and Mikoto could only comply as Fugaku was lowered onto it. “What do you need? I have bandages and I can probably find some medicinal plants if you can show me what they look like.”

It was too sudden. Mikoto just stared at the blonde girl, taking in her too short capris pants and sleeveless shirt. They were Konoha issue, she could tell that much, but the poor thing had outgrown them. Why was an Iwa child trying to help her? Wasn’t this the one the briefing had warned her about? The one who sowed dissent among the Konoha teams that reached her?

Dark fingers snapped in front of her eyes, forcing Mikoto back to the present.

“Hey! I’m willing to help you, but you have to tell me how!”

Mikoto shook her head to clear it, slapping her hands down on her cheeks to jumpstart her brain.

“Right! Bandages would be lovely. Clean water, too, if you can spare it.”

The child ran off into the hidden depths of her home, leaving Mikoto with Fugaku. She ran a hand over his face, gently tugging his hair aside so she could better see his injury. It was still bleeding profusely, and she could see the white of bone through the mess of blood and tissue, but she took solace in the knowledge that head injuries always looked worse that they were. She tugged on her chakra, the familiar green light of the diagnostic jutsu coating her hands. A concussion, as she feared, but otherwise his head was fine. She moved her hands lower, examining him inch by inch. A couple of cracked ribs and a shattered tibia, but that was it. She let herself relax, her vision swimming as tears filled her eyes.

He could have died. The war could have taken him from her and she would have been powerless to stop it. Just a little further to the left, and he would be the one splattered across the moss instead of Tomoko.

“Here, is this enough?”

She looked up at the child as she set down a tall, red clay jug of water. She knelt down beside Mikoto and laid out a bundle of bandages that were clearly torn from clothing, the fabric a mix of white and deep blue. Wasn’t she meant to be their enemy? Why would she go out of her way to help them, like this?

The girl turned slanted green eyes to her. “Do you need anything else?”

Right. Fugaku!

Mikoto shook her head, dismissing her misgivings. “No. Thank you, really. I don’t know what I would have done if the temple hadn’t shown itself when it did.”

The girl smiled, revealing the most adorable outpointing canines. “I don’t control the temple, lady. It showed itself because you didn’t want to use it or me. Your motivations were pure, and temples like that shit. Well,” she stood as Mikoto choked on her laughter. “If you don’t need me, I’ll go make some food. It won’t be anything fancy, but it won’t kill you.”

She left, and Mikoto took a moment to take a few deep breaths. She wasn’t on one of the teams assigned to making contact with the temple, so the information she’d received about it was incredibly limited. Did the shinobi tasked with persuading her to Konoha’s cause know she spoke like that? Where did a child living alone in the woods even learn such language? The cats?

On second thought, that was entirely plausible. The fiends were surprisingly foul mouthed.

Her mirth successfully internalized, Mikoto once again called on her chakra and took her fiancé’s head in her hands, thanking every god who would listen—with a special mention for whichever god ruled the temple which had so kindly given her refuge—that she’d gone out of her way to study medical jutsus despite the Uchiha elders speaking against it. It didn’t have to be her specialty to be useful, and, besides, her sharingan was making it much easier to see what she was doing.

With the wild rumors surrounding the temple, she’d half expected her dojutsu to be blocked, but it functioned as normal. She was beginning to think the stories about the place were just that, stories. Likely told by the fools who couldn’t find it, in the first place.

After treating Fugaku’s head injury to the best of her ability, her chakra was embarrassingly low. His life wasn’t in danger and they were relatively safe, so, instead of moving on to his ribs and leg, she decided to conserver her energy. Dipping some of the bandages in the water, she wiped the blood from his face. It was a handsome face, especially now that he wasn’t scowling. Was it too much to ask that he look at her like that without being unconscious?

The air carried the scent of cooking meat and her stomach growled loudly. She didn’t dare leave her future husband’s side, hunger or no hunger. Still, she wasn’t sure she’d be comfortable eating something when she hadn’t seen how it was prepared. The child had been entirely too gracious and she couldn’t help but wonder when the other shoe would drop. It hurt her to think that way, but Mikoto was a kunoichi, first and foremost.

Fugaku’s fingers tightened spastically around her own where she held his hand. She looked to his face, watching as his eyes fluttered open. His sharingan activated as he took in his surroundings and she found a little happiness at the way he relaxed when he recognized her.

“Mikoto.”

His voice was hoarse and she shushed him, taking the opportunity to look into his eyes. They were dilating properly and she heaved a sigh of relief. She let herself smile at him.

“You’ll never guess what happened. The temple appeared. We’re safe, here, for now, so don’t worry.”

Her words were meant to comfort him, but his brows furrowed. That was their default position, but something told Mikoto that he was actually frowning.

“The temple? How could you be so reckless? You know what our orders are! We are not cleared to engage with it or its people!” A vein pulsed in his jaw as he pushed himself up with a pained hiss. “Have you forgotten all your training? I thought you were a kunoichi, not an empty headed bride!”

Mikoto stared at Fugaku, mouth agape as she struggled to find the words to reply to that-that vitriol. She didn’t need to, though.

“Oh, hell no.”

The child walked back into the room, two bowls of steaming food in her hands. She placed one carefully into Mikoto’s hands before simply dropping the other into Fugaku’s lap, an angry light in her eyes as she watched hot soup splatter across his groin.

“There’s no saving this one,” she told Mikoto, holding the kunoichi’s gaze even as the shinobi cursed angrily at the new source of pain. “You just gotta throw the whole man out. Toss him, like the steaming pile of garbage he is.”

“What—?”

“Listen, babe. I get it. He’s cute, if you squint long enough, but that’s no reason to doom yourself to an unhappy life. Do you want your sons to come out exactly like him? Because that’s the reality you have to be prepared for. Or, worse, he treats them like he treats you. You might be able to deal with it, but when it’s aimed at your kids and your backwater, inbred Clan doesn’t believe in divorce? What then? You gonna murder him and hope no one notices the arsenic in his teacup?” The child pursed her lips. “I dunno, babe, you don’t look that lucky, to me.”

That was…a lot. Mikoto hadn’t even begun to unpack her tirade when Fugaku lunged for the girl, lightning quick despite his injuries. Mikoto watched, transfixed, as a literal child caught his fist in her much smaller hand, yanking it up and reaching under with her other arm before pulling him back down, snapping his elbow over her wrist. He bellowed in pain and Mikoto winced as the girl kicked him in he ribs and sent him back to the ground.

“I was expecting that,” she said with a shake of her head. “It’s been a while since the last group, so I figured you guys made up your mind about me. You want my land, even if you have to kill me to get it. Well, tough luck. Wanting to kill me is biggest filter on this place. Your pretty girlfriend only got you this far because she cared more about keeping you alive than murdering innocent children. Goes to show just how much you don’t deserve her, huh?”

Fugaku growled, his face twisted with rage. Mikoto reached out to hold him back, but he shook her off.

“Iwa scum,” he spat. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what you’ve done!”

The girl cocked her head, her golden halo of hair bouncing with the movement. “I’m not from Iwa, you dumbfuck. But, what do I know? We’re only talking about me, after all. I couldn’t possible have more information about _me_ than an asshole who can’t even tell the difference between an Iwa ninja and a Taki civilian.”

Taki?

The girl covered her mouth with both hands, expression rife with faux scandal. “Oh, that’s right. You don’t even know where Taki is, do you? Oh, poor baby.”

Fugaku looked as though he was ready to rush her again. If he wasn’t so injured, taking down a little girl would be no issue for him—even so, it was still impressive that she’d landed a hit, at all—but as he was now, he’d only get hurt worse. Mikoto drew on her chakra and placed her hand on his shoulder. Before he could brush her off again, the medical chakra put him to sleep. He slumped over and she caught him before he could hit the ground.

“I expect you both to be gone by tomorrow morning. You’re free to rest and eat until then.”

Mikoto could only nod in thanks. It was more than they deserved.

* * *

Hiruzen hung his head in his hands. It would seem he had gravely mishandled the situation. He had assumed the temple’s defenses only consisted of a very powerful genjutsu. He really should have stopped to consider a seal. That was the only thing that could pick and choose the way young Uchiha Mikoto-kun claimed.

By giving the order to claim the temple by any means necessary, he’d effectively made it impossible for his forces to even find it. That the girl was strong enough to counter Fugaku, one of his elite jounin, even in his injured state, was a serious cause for concern, as well. Somehow, she was growing stronger.

Was it Taki? Was she being taught by Taki?

He’d assumed she was from Iwa. Her temple was in the Land of Earth, after all. No one even knew where Taki was. It was the epitome of a hidden village. It was so strong, Hashirama had gifted it the Nanabi to ensure their loyalty. To this day, they were the only village to uphold their vow of peace. Not once had Taki fought in a war or allied itself with any other village. It was a mystery.

Just like the girl.

He leaned back in his chair, puffing angrily on his pipe. Well, if new agents couldn’t reach her, he’d just have to send the one person she actually seemed to like.


	12. Other Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did you think Konoha shinobi were the only ones who could visit the temple?

The forest was miraculously untouched by the war raging within it. No. Not untouched. _Unconcerned._ Battlefields—bloody, pockmarked earth, toppled trees, bodies abandoned by their living comrades—disappeared before they could be marked on any map, the moss swallowing them whole and erasing all proof of human interference. Even the living feared standing still too long, lest they, too, be absorbed by the sea of green which insisted on disorienting everyone, regardless of allegiance.

It was mildly amusing to watch the two armies stumble through a region neither of their governments actually wanted. Iwa was happy to leave the entire accursed corner of Earth Country to its own devices. If any people lived among the trees, they were exempt from national taxation, if only because no one cared to brave the tree line. One might expect Konoha to be better equipped for arboreal combat, but they fared no better than their opponents, losing their way—and their supplies—more often than not. Still, the moss drenched forest was a convenient place to stage their conflict, well away from the things they wanted to protect.

It was incredibly vexing to be lost, himself, though.

He stepped into yet another clearing, identical in everyway to the one he’d just left, and his rage threatened to boil over. He could feel the caustic sting of magma bubbling in the back of his throat and he was sorely tempted to just let it spew and set the entire forsaken forest ablaze, bury it in molten stone and never see another speck of moss for the rest of his life. That would show it!

He swallowed down his anger and chakra. If he gave in, he’d give away his location, and then the idiots who liked to think themselves in charge would order him around; likely sending him to reclaim more bits of forest nobody cared about. If he could keep a low profile, then he would have a little time to himself where he didn’t need to fight for a village that didn’t give a shit about him, aeanyway.

He’d like to spend that down time somewhere other than the forest of hell, but he’d be stuck there if he didn’t find his way out before his so-called comrades came across him in the infernal maze. He pumped chakra into his feet and ran up a tree, bursting through the thick canopy with a leap. He hung in the air for half a moment, taking in the unbroken field of green with a scowl.

No. Not unbroken.

The noxious blanket of canopy gave way before what looked like a building. Gravity began pulling him from the sky and pushed up off the tree below him with an explosion of leaves, propelling himself toward the anomaly. As he got closer, it became clear that it was a ruin of some sort, the stone worn and crumbling. He landed in the center of a square pool of water, ripples flaring out from beneath his feet. The herd of cattle drinking from it fled in a panic, rushing through a hole in the opposite wall. It was small courtyard, with buildings on either side, one in better shape than the other. His first instinct was to dismiss it as crumbling relic of days long past, but another look had him hesitating. There were signs of life. Ceramic jars lined the porch of the intact building, cloth coverings tied over their openings with twine. The courtyard was relatively free of leaf litter and the roof looked to be recently replaced with large round, handwoven trays of reed laid out atop it, laden with plants and meat set out to dry in the sun. Someone was living in the ruin. A group of forest dwellers, perhaps?

“Do you like your toes?”

He spun on his heel, tilting his head to look up at the person sitting on the wall above the pool. It was a child, looking far too much like Kumo’s people to be a true native of the region. Their skin was too dark, their hair too light and curly. Well, the alliance between Iwa and Kumo was several generations old, now, so it wasn’t too strange to see someone like them crawling around the backwaters.

“What?”

They looked down at his feet then back up to his face. “Your toes. Do you like them?”

He shook his head, mentally trying to place their accent and failing. “Why?”

“You’re gonna lose them if you don’t move, soon.”

He leapt away from the water, landing in the middle of the courtyard. Where he was standing only seconds before, something dove under the water’s surface.

“Don’t worry, Turtle,” the kid said with a sad sigh. “One day. One day, you’ll eat someone.”

A turtle? Could turtles even get that big?

The child leapt from their place on the wall, landing only a few steps away from him. They—she, he realized from her manner of dress—crossed strong arms over her chest, thick, black criminal tattoos standing front and center on her wrists. Were they some kind of fashion statement among the wildmen, now? Her clothing was several sizes too small, the sleeves of her black shirt cut away to make room for her well muscled shoulders and her pants cut off at the knees. Her feet were bare and covered in filth.

Clearly, the forest dwellers weren’t benefiting from their tax breaks as much as the taxpaying citizens claimed they were.

He crossed his own arms, mirroring the tall girl’s stance with a scowl. “Where are your parents, brat? Get them out here.”

She raised one short eyebrow at him. “I don’t have parents.”

Oh. Oops.

He sniffed loudly, looking away. “You live here alone, then?”

“Yep. Well, unless you count Mushi.” A giant rhinoceros beetle alighted onto her waiting palm. She grinned at him, revealing crooked eyeteeth. “He’s my buddy.”

He scoffed. “You know there’s a war going on, right? Why haven’t you evacuated to wherever it is your fellow savages have run off to?”

She laughed, the sound harsh and unfriendly. “Savages? We’re not the ones at war, you know.”

He clicked his tongue at her, brows furrowing. “If you stick around, you might get caught up in it. This forest is a hot spot of activity.”

She cocked her head at him, a smile playing about her full lips. “You didn’t notice?”

That put him on alert. She was a child, clearly poor and likely underfed, so she stood no chance against him, an elite shinobi and a jinchuriki, besides. Even if there was a secret army of forest folk waiting in the shadows, they would prove no challenge to him.

He didn’t sense any other people, but there was a weird, claustrophobic sensation, like a heavy blanket had been laid over his senses. The seal on his chest tingled, like something was tickling it from underneath his skin.

“What is that?”

The kid shrugged, clearly in the know but unwilling to share. “If you can’t tell, then you’re not as cool as you think you are.”

He laughed despite himself. What a bold thing to say to a shinobi. Was this girl not a civilian, like he first assumed? Did the forest dwellers even have shinobi? If they did, why weren’t they fighting against the foreign ninja occupying their land?

“If the war finds you,” he said, trying to keep his tone measured. “It won’t be kind. You’ll lose everything you have, here, and maybe even your life.”

She grinned widely at him, a light twinkling in her verdant green eyes. “So, I should let a big strong shinobi like you stay here and protect me, is that it?”

He turned away with a huff. Damn. Was he that obvious? Truthfully, the ruin was more than he’d hoped to find in the godforsaken forest. He hadn’t heard anything about it from his ‘superiors’, so, odds were, they didn’t know about it. There was a supply of water, and clearly food, if the girl was living there on her own. It was the perfect place to avoid the war while also being in the area just in case he was desperately needed. If Konoha deployed their precious Nine Tails, he’d be ready, but he wouldn’t be around for any of the tedious bullshit the smallminded idiots of his village insisted on forcing him and his fellow jinchuriki to do for them. Clearing trees? Any idiot in the Demolitions Corps could do that.

Honestly, he was just tired of it all. The stares, the jeers, the stupid hazing. Once the war was over, he’d probably just cut his losses and run. A shinobi of his caliber couldn’t be found unless he wanted to be.

“What’ll you give me?”

He turned back to the girl in surprise. “What?”

She shrugged, her mouth pulled down in an exaggerated frown. “Hey, if a guy as strong as you wants to stick around, I can’t exactly stop you. Plus, this is a temple, and if it let you in then I can’t really argue with it, you know? Still, you should at least pay rent, or something, you know? I don’t like you, either,” she added with a purse to her lips and a narrowing of her eyes. “So, I oughta get something extra, don’t you think?”

He barked a laugh, shaking his head at her bold demands. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Benihime. But I like Beni.”

“Beni.” He rolled the syllables around in his mouth, finding some amusement in the odds of finding someone else with a color oriented name. “I’m Roshi.”

“I know,” she grinned at the way he tensed. “But I won’t tell you how. If you haven’t figured it out yet, then that’s a you problem.”

Right. Because _that_ wasn’t a cause for concern.

“Tell you what, Beni-chan,” Nope. He still couldn’t wrap his brain around that name. “I can see that your ‘temple’ is a little worse for wear. I’ll do some heavy lifting for you, how does that sound?”

She bit at the inside of her cheek, looking him over with a judging gaze. What was she gonna do? Say no? She wasn’t nearly strong enough to turn him down, but he wasn’t that much of an asshole, either.

“Ok,” she said after a long moment, nodding to herself. “That’s fine. On one condition!” She held out one finger, her face scrunched angrily. “No fighting in the temple! It’s sacred ground! If your enemies pay a visit, then you can’t fight them!”

That was the whole point of staying at the temple. He, too, pretended to think it over before nodding. “You drive a hard bargain, but I accept those terms.”

She grinned up at him. “Cool! It’s been _forever_ since I saw another human! Mushi’s been my only friend for so long~!”

The beetle, now perched on her shoulder, made a strange hissing noise. She nodded.

“Yes, you’re right. But I’m a human! I need human friends.”

…He wasn’t gonna ask. Nope. Bug people were the least freaky thing about this damned forest.

“How old are you, anyway, kid?”

“Eight!”

What kind of eight year old—!? She was almost as tall as him!

No, he wasn’t short, she was just obnoxiously tall! That Kumo blood was stretching her out!

Stupid brat. Tch.


	13. Irreplaceable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Standin' in the courtyard,  
> Thinkin' 'bout how you can use me, too,  
> How you'll take my home and make it a tool,  
> Got me twisted!

“Why did we let him live with us, again?”

**To avenge Son!**

“Right. And letting him build us an oven is vengeance…how?”

**He’s slaving away! Working without thanks, just like Son!**

“He’s gonna eat the food that comes out of the oven, though, so it’s not like he won’t see taste the fruits of his labor.”

**Shh. He’s rebuilding the temple! It’s penance!**

“Wouldn’t it be better if he rebuilt Son-sensei’s temple, instead? I mean—.”

**Shh.**

She sighed and adjusted the gathering basket where it sat beside her, already heavy with mushrooms and other edible plants. She turned a page in the book that was hidden in a pot among the supplies Kiba’s mom gave her, ages and ages ago. She couldn’t read Japanese—neither could Choumei, but he was a giant, immortal bug born in a time with a different writing system, so she couldn’t get mad at him for it—but there were lots of pictures, so it was easy to figure out that it was an almanac of edible plants. All she had to do was show Mushi what she wanted, and he’d mobilize his fleet of beetles to find it for her. Her diet was much more varied now, and she thanked whoever thought to send her the book every day.

There were other books, but she couldn’t read them, their contents a mystery.

The supply pack had contained all sorts of things. Baskets, cooking utensils, oil, _spices_. Oh, the spices. Her quality of life went up dramatically the instant she started cooking with salt. She used it sparingly to keep from running out, but it came in a giant fucking _rock_ , so she was pretty confident it would last her a while. There were lots of things she couldn’t recognize, but she figured out pretty quickly what she liked and what she didn’t.

Mushi did that weird hissing thing he did when he wanted her attention.

 _Mushrooms,_ he said. _Big mushrooms. Ladybug found them._

Hooking the Nyoi Bo through the plant basket’s straps, she counterbalanced it with another basket weighed down with smooth stones and animals unlucky enough to be caught in her traps. She lifted them up with a groan and settled the staff on her shoulders, the legendary weapon reduced to a carrying pole. She followed Mushi’s lead to the patch of fungi, thanking the yellow ladybug who’d found them for her as it flew away. She carefully picked only the biggest mushrooms, placing them into her basket. These ones were her favorite, but they were hard to find, so she liked to leave some behind to regrow. In theory, she would know where to find them again, but her memory was such shit she always needed to ask the bugs for help.

Channeling some chakra into her feet, she began the trek home. It was strange, having someone else around. For so long, it was just her, the monkeys and Choumei. Now, with Roshi around, she constantly confronting how weird she’d become. She said all her thoughts out loud, narrating her actions and though process as she went about her day. She didn’t even notice she was doing it unless Roshi pointed it out, which he hadn’t since the first couple of days, when he might have realized what a jerk he was being. Maybe. He was a jerk in a lot of other ways, so it was hard to be sure. She wasn’t even certain he was actually a jerk or if she was just completely unaccustomed to dealing with another human for prolonged periods of time. He spent most of his days doing exactly what he said he’d do, clearing debris from around the temple and repairing some of the less damaged areas. Sometimes, he just disappeared, not showing his face for several days in a row only to reappear with food he’d clearly stolen from his Iwa comrades. The last time he did that, he brought some noodles! That was a nice change of pace. More often than, not, though, he stole wine for himself, drinking the night away while Beni tried to sleep knowing another human was in her temple.

She…really needed to get used to being a person, again.

She stepped through the round ‘moon gate’ where the hole in the wall used to be. It was the first thing Roshi fixed, after she made it clear that the cows and horses needed to be free to come and go from the temple courtyard. He was a little bummed about not being allowed to eat the cattle, but he got over it pretty quickly once he realized she wasn’t gonna serve him vegetarian foods. Setting down the baskets beside the inner sanctum’s front door—a door Roshi had kindly made to plug the doorway—she rolled her shoulders. Channeling Choumei’s chakra, she shrank the Nyoi Bo back to its matchstick size and fastened it to her necklace with a click.

As bitter as she was about sharing it, the courtyard looked a million times better, now. The walls were repaired, the fox holes and the entrances to the tanuki dens reinforced with clay bricks, and there were drying racks where she could lay out trays of plants or hang meat to dry. In the corner where the inner sanctum met the outer walls, the beginnings of a clay oven were taking shape. The stone paving had even been scrubbed free of the moss which carpeted the rest of the forest. Life with a roommate was certainly easier, but she still got her hackles up whenever Roshi was around. If he finally decided to pull his head out of his ass and realize she was a jinchuriki, too, what would he do?

 **I don’t think you need to worry about that,** Choumei said as she lugged a ceramic jug over to the sacred pool, filling it with water to clean today’s haul. **You practice with the Nyoi Bo every morning, but he never notices my chakra. He’s one of those types who only sees what he wants to see. It hasn’t even crossed his mind that you might be like him, so he ignores all the signs**.

She’d known a few people like that, and her conversations with Son Goku—many of them had _while Roshi was in the temple_ —made it clear he was that kind of person, but she was still a little paranoid. He was at least twice her age and had much more experience using bijuu chakra in combat. Having more tails than him would make little difference if they actually came to blows.

“Hey, Hime-chan!” She looked up to where he stood on the roof of the main hall. He was in the process of rebuilding the half that was still standing, but it was slow going, since he was trying to use as much of the original materials as possible, parsing through the rubble for usable bits. She appreciated the thought, but it would probably go faster if he made new bricks. “Look what I found!”

He jumped down to the center of the courtyard, plopping down a large, dead, pig.

“I know beef is off limits,” he said with a grin as Beni stared open mouthed at the hairy, tusked boar he’d brought her. “But pork is fine, right?”

Where had he even found a pig that size? She hadn’t seen any, at all, anywhere the whole time she lived in the temple. He had to have brought it from far away.

“I don’t even know how to cook pig,” she said breathlessly even as her mind was slowly filling with all the foods she missed from Before. Chorizo, carnitas, chicharrones, _bacon._ “Wait!”

She ran into the house, pulling all the books Konoha’s teams had given her from their place under the raised cot that served as her bed. She ran back outside and knelt rather painfully, laying them out on the floor.

“Are any of these recipe books? This one has pictures of food, but I don’t know what all the words say.”

She looked up at Roshi with excitement. This was another use for the older jinchuriki. Surely, _he_ knew how to read, right?

His face, free of the weird face plate attached to his pointy helmet, was twisted in a scowl. It was his default expression, but there was another layer to it, this time.

“You can’t read?”

She crossed her arms over her chest with a huff. “Well, it’s not like there’s an abundance of teachers around, now is there?”

He winced. “Right. Here, let me see those.” He crouched in front of her, picking up a book and flipping through the pages. “This is a history of the Land of Fire.”

“Holy shit, for reals?” She took it from him and laughed. “Oh, I know what I’m using as kindling the next time a team from Konoha shows up. They want to make the temple a base of operations,” she explained when he raised a red eyebrow at her. “Pretty bold of them, considering they’re the ones who trashed it in the first place.”

He huffed a small laugh of his own. “No kidding. You should get them to fix it, then.”

“And rob you of your one honest job aside from state sanctioned murder? How could I be so cruel?”

He curled his lip at her but picked up another book, all the same. He flipped the pages, stopping to look at something before setting it aside with a snort.

“A history of Konoha.”

Lame.

She didn’t have anything against Konoha, really. Choumei, did, though, and it was hard to separate her feelings from his where the Leaf village was concerned. It didn’t help that the last Konoha asshole to visit her had tried to kill her. She hoped that girl dumped his ass. She could do so much better.

Roshi thumbed through another book, making an appreciative noise. “Cookbook.”

Ooh, yay!

She leaned forward, trying to look inside. “Is there anything about pork?”

He pressed a finger to the center of her forehead, pressing her back onto her heels with a smirk. “How’s about you wash the damned thing, while I read the directions?”

“No fair! I have to store the mushrooms and rabbits, too!”

“I caught it.”

“And I’m the one who’ll end up cooking it!”

“Only because you won’t let me in the kitchen.”

“Because you mess everything up! I have a system!”

“A shitty system. Who organizes things by taste?”

“Hey! That’s not—.” She cut herself off, tilting her ear down to Mushi where he’d landed on her shoulder.

_People. First person and two others. Fig eaters saw them._

“What’s wrong?” Roshi’s expression was as serious as her own must be, his playful attitude gone in a flash. He was somewhat tense, his years of training as a shinobi kicking in at the first sign of trouble.

“There are people coming,” she told him. “Three people.”

He rolled his neck, popping the joint. “Want me to get rid of them?”

She shook her head slowly. “No. Mushi said something that makes me think at least one of them might be a return visitor. Plus,” she let herself smile up at her fellow jinchuriki. “If we invite them to dinner, _they_ can deal with the pig, for us!”

He laughed, throwing his head back with the force of it. “Alright! Oh,” he pulled a scroll from his pocket and tossed it to her, a lopsided grin spreading across his face. “I grabbed this for ya. Can’t be welcoming guests dressed like that.”

She looked down at her too small clothing, the pants long converted to shorts and her once long sleeved shirt now little more than a bandeau. She knew she was tall, but were kids supposed to grow as fast as she was?

**Most children have access to clothing at all stages of growth.**

Touché.

“Thanks, senpai!”

She left him sputtering in shock at the endearment as she ran inside to change.

* * *

Sakumo climbed the ruined stairs, entering the temple the right way, this time. Behind him, his two kouhai chattered rather loudly. They weren’t trying to sneak in. Quite the opposite, in fact. They wanted little Benihime to know they were coming.

He was more than a little surprised to receive such a mission. He never expected to return to the region after leaving it over two years ago, now. His skills were better suited for fighting against Kumo, the Hatake Clan’s white chakra giving him an advantage against in the face of so many lightning jutsus.

Even more surprising were the things people were saying about the temple and the little girl who lived there.

Shinobi. Gossips, the lot of them.

The two shinobi sent to accompany him were young and energetic, popular with children in different ways. Uzumaki Kushina bickered one-sidedly with Namikaze Minato, the blond smiling like a saint in the face of the red head’s contrived anger. The young jounin were among the strongest of their generation and had already played important roles in the war.

They were also seal masters.

The seal which protected the temple from outside detection was what vexed the Hokage the most. Apparently, the only reason Sakumo had even found it in the first place was that he hadn’t harbored any ill will for it or the person inside. Granted, he was too unconscious to have any will, at all, but that was neither here nor there. The Hokage wanted to learn the inner workings of the seal so Konoha could use it or a variant to protect its supply lines and outposts. If—and it was a big if, given the reports thus far—Benihime could be persuaded to assist Konoha’s efforts in the region, then Sakumo was to oversee the temple’s occupation.

It made little difference to him. Either way, he was farther from his child than he cared to be.

Even if Kakashi were a normal child, he’d be loath to leave him, his youth making his father nervous about being forgotten after too long away. At three years old, he was already using jutsus and chakra techniques that academy graduates struggled with. Sakumo was equal parts proud and concerned. It was only a matter of time before his child was also sent out to fight and the more he excelled the sooner it would happen.

There was something different about the temple.

Admittedly, he hadn’t been there very long and his memories of it were blurred by fever, but he was eighty percent sure it was more…battered, than it was now. As he stepped through the hallway of the main building, there were piles of debris swept neatly to one side and holes in the walls and roof were clearly in the process of being plugged. Well, it had been years since his first and only visit. Why shouldn’t she fix up her home?

The courtyard was also different, though not by much. In fact, the biggest difference was the man sitting cross legged beside a boar carcass, a book open in one hand. He had red hair which clashed badly with his purple Iwa style clothing, and he was rather short.

He looked up at them, raising a red eyebrow at them before turning back to his book. “Hime-chan,” he called, voice ringing through the courtyard. “Your guests are here.”

Benihime stepped out of her home, an actual door swinging open before her. Her hair was longer, the golden curls forming a halo around her face. Her skin had darkened, some, making the contrast between it, her hair, and her green eyes that much more striking. She was wearing a red kimono in the Iwa style, the sleeves rolled up and away from her hands. She looked at Sakumo, angry recognition twisting her face.

“You!”


	14. Spreading the Disease

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Manipulate the people for the money they pay  
> Selling skin, selling God  
> The numbers look the same on their credit cards  
> Politicians say no to drugs  
> While we can pay for wars in South America

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Queensrÿche again ♡( ◡‿◡ )
> 
> Edited, like, two seconds after publishing because I realized there was some icky, unintentional subtext. Hopefully I fixed it!

Minato watched with growing amusement as the girl child marched right up to Hatake Sakumo, the White Fang, hero of the Second Shinobi War, her face scrunched up with anger. His senpai, for all his formidable reputation, held up his hands and backed away, putting on a show of fear before the child’s ire.

“Me?” The older shinobi asked, expression one of carefully crafted yet friendly confusion.

“Don’t play dumb! Did you think I wouldn’t recognize you! You may not be wearing a mask, but your hair’s the same color, you old man!”

Oof. Minato let himself smile as the girl struck right in the center of Sakumo’s sore spot, but Kushina laughed outright, clutching her belly as she guffawed loudly at their senpai’s expense.

“Hey, I’m not old!” Sakumo crossed his arms over his chest, sniffing disdainfully. “My hair is naturally silver.”

“Yeah, that’s what happens when you age, stupid.”

It was, admittedly, pretty funny to watch a soldier of Sakumo’s caliber trade barbs with a child half his size, but not funny enough to warrant Kushina’s breathless laughter. Sometimes Minato wondered what it must be like to see the world through her eyes, to feel emotions so extremely?

Well, she was cute when she smiled, so it was fine.

“So? What do you want?” The child demanded, crossing her own arms in a mirror of Sakumo’s posture. “Has your Hokage finally decided to pull his head out of his ass and apologize? I don’t accept groveling via proxy, though, so he’ll have to come do it, himself.”

“Apologize?” Minato asked, genuinely surprised. “Apologize for what?”

The girl spared him a withering glance, full lips twisted with scorn. “Wow. Got no brains in that pretty head of yours, do you? Real himbo material.”

Excuse me?

Kushina’s laughter, which had begun to fade, picked right back up and Minato didn’t even try to resist the urge to pout. It wasn’t that funny.

“It was a serious question,” he muttered, pointedly looking at anything but the girls. Instead, he found himself looking at the short, red headed man who’d told the sharp tongued child about their arrival. He looked awfully familiar…

“If so, then you’re seriously stupid,” the girl said with a shake of her head. “Or your Hokage gets a kick out of keeping his soldiers seriously uninformed.”

“It’s the latter,” the red headed man said gruffly, turning a page in his book. “All Kages are like that.”

The girl clicked her tongue, making her feelings about that perfectly clear.

“If you’re not here to apologize, then what do you want?”

Kushina bounced up and down in place. “Ooh! Ooh! Me! I know! We’re here to study the seal!”

“Which seal? There are four in the temple, right now, and one of them _should_ be familiar to you, already.”

Kushina cocked her head. “The one that makes it invisible?” She leaned in close to Minato, stage whispering. “There’s more than one?”

It was weird, watching her play up her normal exuberance, but it wasn’t too far from her typical self. She may have been playing a part for their audience, but it was pretty similar to the act she put on for children back in the village. As such, he knew his part in the bit by heart.

“Just go along with it and maybe she’ll tell us.”

It was a ploy meant to give the child a false sense of power, to convince them that they had something that the adults wanted. In most cases, it made the child more willing to negotiate. Lots of information had been gained for the paltry price of some candy or a meal for the night. It was cruel and manipulative, but that was their job description.

This child didn’t look like she would take the bait, her sharp green eyes jumping from Kushina to Minato and back again.

“Does this work for you?” She asked, short golden brows furrowing in confusion. “Like, is this a thing that gets results? ‘Cause you look dumb as shit.”

Kushina squawked indignantly and Minato could only chuckle as the girl turned back to Sakumo, her glare as sharp as ever.

“Bad dog!” She scolded, and even Minato had to choke back his laughter. “You dare bite the hand that fed you! I saved your life, you know! I could have just let you drown, but I didn’t! You’re alive because of me, and what do you do! You tattle on me! We have a saying where I come from: snitches get stitches!”

Throughout her tirade, she kept one slender finger pointed up at the silver haired elite jounin, shaking it up and down like she really was scolding a very large puppy. It was, again, amusing, but unproductive.

“Is there something we can do to make it up to you?” He interjected, keeping his tone light and friendly in the way little Kakashi-kun liked. “We’re not here to start any trouble, really. We just want to study the temple.”

…

Why did he suddenly feel like he’d walked into a trap?

The girl shared a devious smile with her red headed companion before turning to look all of them up and down.

“Well,” she sniffed haughtily. “If you’re going to be making a nuisance of yourselves, you may as well be useful. Roshi-senpai,” she turned away from them, marching back toward what must be her home. “You’re in charge!”

She disappeared inside the building with a slam of the makeshift door. The man sitting beside the boar carcass sighed and rolled his neck, filling the air with sickening pops from the joint.

“Alright,” he said, getting to his feet and pointing at Sakumo. “You can go help her inside. You’ve got history, or whatever, so that means you’re not out to kill her, at the very least. You two,” he said to the younger jounin. “Can stay out here with me.”

“Um,” Kushina began, raising her hand in the air like they were in the Academy. “What are we doing?”

The shorter red head snorted. “Isn’t it obvious?” He jabbed his thumb at the dead pig. “We’re making dinner.”

* * *

Beni returned to laying out her mushrooms, organizing them in a _perfectly normal way_ , thank you. Some would need to be dried, but there were a few she could imagine going well with pork. She’d have to double check with whatever recipe Roshi ended up picking, but—.

**Why is she still alive?**

She sighed. “I can’t just kill someone who hasn’t done anything to be, first. You know that.”

**You know what she’s done to Kurama! What her predecessor did to him! He’s in pain!**

True. It was hard to look at Naruto’s parents when she knew exactly how much suffering they would put— _were putting_ —Choumei’s elder brother through. Kurama was an asshole, like most bijuu, but he didn’t deserve a lifetime of torment. At the end of the day, he was a giant predator and humans the most abundant prey. If she couldn’t get mad at the foxes living in the temple for stealing her preserved meat, then she couldn’t get mad at the King Fox for eating what was available to him.

**He doesn’t even eat humans! Get that nonsense out of your brain!**

“Son-sensei said he does.”

**Son is a stupid head who likes starting fights.**

She laughed. “I’m telling him you said that.”

“Telling who?”

Her happiness disappeared, the voice like water on the flames of her joy. She angled her body so her back was to the intruder and continued laying out her mushrooms.

He sighed. “I’m sorry, Benihime-chan—.”

“No, you’re not,” she bit out, not really angry with him but still using him as the convenient punching bag he was. “If you were sorry, you’d go home and tell your Kage you couldn’t find the temple. And call me Beni.”

He came to crouch beside her, watching her sort the fungi before reaching out to help her. She slapped his hand and he cradled it to his chest.

“Wash your hands!”

He chuckled but didn’t leave.

“You’re right,” he said lamely. “I’m not so sorry that I would ignore my orders for you. I _am_ , however, sorry that my village has so badly handled this. When I gave my report, I didn’t expect anything to really come of it. This region isn’t exactly coveted, so I was very surprised to learn that, not only have we been fighting over it so desperately, but that this temple had become such a point of contention. I honestly thought you would be left alone. In fact,” he sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. “I felt a little bad about not bringing you with me.”

She scoffed, still refusing to look at him. “Why should I care? I don’t wanna go to Konoha, anyway.”

That wasn’t exactly true. She’d love to visit the main setting of the story she remembered, but Choumei’s bitterness made it hard to even think about the Land of Fire without frowning.

“I heard you had some grievances against us,” he began, clearly being careful with his words. “I don’t think I’m qualified to speak on that, but I will say this: most people in Konoha don’t know about what happened here. They also had nothing to do with it. Holding them responsible for things they didn’t do is a bit cruel, don’t you think?”

Yeah, she knew that. She watched Sesame Street growing up, ok? Elmo told her all about blame and forgiveness. She wasn’t the one holding the grudge, though.

“It doesn’t change anything,” she said bitterly. “Even if I did go with you, abandoning my country and my duties to the temple, my life wouldn’t get any better. I’d just be broken and remolded into something Konoha could use.” She finally looked at him, taking in his dark eyes and sliver hair, confirming his identity as she compared him to the other two men in her memories who looked like that. “Besides, I’m willing to bet all my money that your village teaches its kids that people who look like me are evil or some other bigoted bullshit. You’re at war with Kumo, too, right? Can’t have the next generation be open to reconciliation, now can we?”

He looked decidedly uncomfortable. “You don’t know that—.”

“Neither do you,” she shot back, turning back to the task of cleaning fungus. “But you should. You’ve got a kid, don’t you, Mr. Hatake Sakumo-san?”

He tensed, the very air around him taut as a wire. The only name he’d ever given her was Wolf, and he’d sure as fuck never mentioned Kakashi, so he had every reason to be nervous. For a moment, she considered leaving it at that. She didn’t want one of the only nice shinobi she’d ever encountered to become her enemy.

**Do it. It’s my temple, and I say do it.**

Well, there was no arguing with that.

“Namikaze Minato and Uzumaki Kushina were interesting choices for this,” she continued, spurred on by Choumei’s chanting of **do it do it do it** in the back of her mind. Really, if he did turn out to be an enemy, what was he gonna do? She and Roshi had eleven tails between them. Not even Kushina could stop them if they joined forces. “What are you planning to do with the seal when you find it? Destroy it and leave us open to attack? Or copy it and apply it wherever helps your invasion the most? Because that is what you’re doing,” her words were again laced with an anger that wasn’t really hers. “You know, for a village founded on the premise of peace and friendship being the only answer, you sure do start a lot of wars to prove it.”

He didn’t say anything. He was still tensed and ready for violence, not even relaxing when she continued doing her chores. She was content to ignore him, letting him stew in the provocation she’d dropped at his feet. Now that she’d said it, she kind of regretted it, but it wasn’t her fault. Any time Konoha was mentioned, she just got so angry.

It was all Choumei’s fault.

**So? My anger is perfectly justified, thank you!**

It was. She’d never say it wasn’t. Being enslaved was a horrible thing and he had every right to hate the system that did it to him, but not everyone who existed within a system was evil. If a little kid from Konoha showed up, would he be as cruel?

 **That’s not fair~,** he whined. **Kids don’t get to pick where they grow up.**

Neither did Sakumo. Or Minato. Or Kushina. _Especially_ not Kushina. The things she did to Kurama were evil, but she’d been raised to believe he was a demon, just like Roshi. That the Iwa jinchuriki only ignored Son was actually one of the better outcomes. Crimes committed when ignorant of the law could not be prosecuted.

**Tch.**

It wasn’t like he couldn’t hate the government. It was cruel and evil and used child soldiers. That shit needed dismantling, big time. But people who were raised under its thumb probably should be given the benefit of the doubt.

Well, as long as they weren’t fucking Danzo or Orochimaru. Or any of the ruling elite, really. The big wigs. People like Minato, an orphan, and Kushina, a misguided jinchuriki, couldn’t really be blamed for fighting in the war. As far as they were concerned, they were protecting their home and its interests, fighting for a better future for their children.

Sakumo, too. He had an actual child at home, waiting for him. How heavily did that weigh on his mind?

 **Ok!** A zap of indignation ran through Beni, straightening her spine against her will. **I get it! It’s not their fault their founder stuck me in a human. Get that image of baby Kakashi out of your head!**

…Oh, she had been thinking about the little masked asshole. Well, he was cute. Thinking about his reaction to finding his father’s corpse was enough to make even a tailed beast sad, it seemed.

**Gah! No more! I concede!**

Hah. Really, she completely understood why he was so angry. Why _all_ the bijuu were angry. If, after being told how and why their actions were wrong, everyone they hated still acted the same way, then they could be wiped from existence. Beni would even help.

The sound of shouting voices shattered the tense quiet inside the house. Both Sakumo and Beni got up to see what had caused the commotion.

Roshi made a point of raising his hands in the air in the universal symbol of nonviolence when he saw Beni.

“I’m not fighting,” he told her calmly. “Unlike _some people_ , I know better than to perform violence on holy ground.”

That last bit was aimed at Kushina, whose red hair had risen around her in a facsimile of Kurama’s tails. She looked to Sakumo as she pointed, rather rudely, at Roshi.

“He’s the Yonbi!” She spat the word like it was somehow foul. “He’s one of Iwa’s jinchuriki! He’s the one who buried the Getsubutsu canyon in lava!”

Ah.

Minato was already in a combat stance and Sakumo sank into one, as well. Beni could only shake her head and sigh.

“And you’re the Kyuubi, bitch. Seriously, hypocrite much?”

**You shouldn’t have said that.**

Yeah, no shit.


	15. Harbinger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mass Effect is a good game.

Choumei watched through Beni’s eyes as the adult humans all turned to regard her. Kurama’s prison looked particularly scandalized and he let himself take some pleasure from that. If he couldn’t blame her village for a dead man’s actions, he could certainly blame her for hers.

His joy was somewhat short lived, however, as he soon found himself wallowing in his human’s panic and unease. Hmm, yes, she was rather outnumbered, wasn’t she? Under normal circumstances, she might have been able to count on Son’s human to stand beside her against Kurama’s, but her words, while amusing, had made it clear that she was aware of his host status, as well. After living inside two adult humans, Choumei knew that they tended to be fond of children, even ones they hadn’t made themselves. _Roshi_ had spent a lot of time around little Beni-chan, and his attachment to her should have been amplified by Son’s feelings toward his student. And, yet, Beni was still afraid he would betray her.

This was clearly a hold over from her last life, where even her blood kin were a potential danger. If he could cross the divide between worlds, he would raze that backward nation to the ground. He supposed it was only natural, after living with such fear for her entire adolescence, that she would expect Roshi to attack her after revealing such a secret. Being suspicious was a good trait in a world like theirs, especially now that it was at war— _again_ —but preemptively guarding against her allies was a good way to live a lonely life.

And she’d been lonely for a long time.

**Would you like me to fix this?**

Surprise flooded her mind. The humans were speaking to her, he realized, asking questions she didn’t want to answer. She hadn’t yet mastered speaking to him within her mind—she hadn’t needed to before Roshi took up residence in the temple, but it was a useful skill for her to have so he wasn’t _too_ bitter about that—so he had to parse through the mess of her emotions to find an answer to his question. From what he gathered, it was: PLEASE.

Fufufu~. His human was so fun!

**Alright, but you don’t get to complain!**

**A̶̡̡̟̫͈̍̒̂͆͑̎̚͝͝ͅs̸̘̙͆͊̐̎͋̕͝͝͝͝ş̴̝͉̥͌̈́͜͝u̷̺̹̻̩͎̥͑́̽̋̀͠͝ͅm̴̨̲͙̗͙̲̤̰͋̌̂̎̋̈́͑͒̕͝į̶̢̛̛̹̹̤̰̝̱̭̘̥͚̞̩̯̒̇̊̚̕n̷̞̫̙̅̏͋̉̿̉͒͘͝͝͠g̸̡͉̫̥͇̠̝̜̺̱̙̬̙͚̓̈́͑̆̍̌̑ ̶̛͖͓̬͎̤̰̖̭͙̯̼̻͓̤͉̽̓̄̇̐̔̿͛͂̓̏͗͘͝Ḑ̸̮̘̼̘̭͉͓̑̅̔͋͊͂͋͒i̶̛̝͒̏͊̀͗̐̔̾̿̾͋͘ṟ̷̢̡̼͚̝̜̮̺̭͎̎͌̓̋̊̉̆͜͝e̸̘̣̱̱̦̤̼̓̒͋́̉̐̾̂̏͊c̶͔̱̙̺̲͒̃̌͐̚ţ̶̫̼͎̖̜͙͈͎̖̳͕̳͎̪̄͗ ̵̡̭̦̠̦͖̺̤̭̲̭̿̍̃̍̈́̾̎̚C̸̢̛̙͙̱͉̱̝̼̬̠̭̼͊̓̒̊́̓̃̏̓̚͜͝͠͝o̶̫̠̤̹̪̎̂͛̏̓̈́͊͒̈́͝n̷͔͎̘̟̼̻̳͈̯̈́ţ̶̪̺̪̗͎̘̖͓̝̝̼̓̐͂̅̂͗͌͑͗͌̆͝ͅŗ̷̨̨͈͖͇̣̩͖̟͊̈́̇̒͂̌̽͝o̷̬̦̙̤̻͚͖̟̩͕̥̅͊̃́̈́͜ͅͅl̶̟͙͔͚͚͔̈̽̈̋̏̏̾̆̑͝**

It was different from the last two times he’d done it. Beni-chan still lost consciousness, falling into a chakra induced sleep as his mind came to occupy all the space in her skull, but he didn’t immediately lash out with his chakra like he did before. There was no need to, since their lives weren’t in any immediate danger. Still, there was too high a risk that other lives might be lost and that would make Beni-chan sad, so he channeled his chakra into the stones beneath her feet, the temple welcoming him like a long lost friend. The other two hosts reacted as they became aware of his power surrounding them, but it was too late for them to do anything. It would have been easier if he was inside the temple, proper, but he could still do what needed to be done from where he was.

Reaching through the stones carved for just that purpose, he touched the chakra networks of the old man and the blond, sending them to the ground in a pair of unconscious heaps. The woman cried out in shock and caught her lover before he could hurt himself, but the fool who’d brought so much misfortune upon Beni-chan hit his head with a satisfying thump.

 **“Well, then,”** he said with a smile—though he had a feeling he wasn’t doing it quite right. **“Shall we talk?”**

“What did you do?” The woman demanded, cradling her companion’s head to her chest. Her face was twisted in an angry scowl and Choumei could feel her trying to channel Kurama’s chakra.

 **“That’s enough of that. This is my domain,”** he said, popping Beni’s neck in that weird display of nonchalance humans often did in the face of potential violence. **“I won’t have you using my brother’s power against me.”**

In an instant, the chakra she’d managed to steal from Kurama was siphoned away, joining his own reserves like a lost limb. How long had it been since he felt his eldest sibling’s power? Had heard his voice?

Not since that Uzumaki bitch sealed him away.

He had to take a moment to calm himself before he did something he would regret. It wasn’t the woman’s fault, it was Madara’s. By sealing Kurama away, she was saving her people from what she thought was just a rampaging monster. If Madara hadn’t robbed him of his autonomy, nobody would have made that mistake. And if Zetsu hadn’t taken advantage of Madara’s unstable mental state, he…well, he might have done it, anyway. There was no telling with Madara.

“You’re not Hime-chan,” Roshi said, crossing his arms over his chest as the Uzumaki woman floundered without access to Kurama’s chakra. This was another person Choumei wasn’t sure he liked, but he didn’t hate him as much as he thought he would. As far as humans went, he wasn’t so bad. Beni-chan was right when she said he could have treated Son much worse than he did, too. “I’m gonna go ahead and guess that she’s like us?”

Choumei nodded. **“Indeed. I am Choumei, but your people have reduced me to Nanabi.”**

He watched Roshi’s face for any sign of the betrayal Beni-chan feared at the revelation, but he actually seemed to relax. The short man sighed, tension leaving his shoulders.

“That explains a lot, actually.”

Ho? And to think, Choumei thought he hadn’t noticed.

“You’re a jinchuriki, too?” The Uzumaki asked, incredulous. “What’s going on?”

Choumei exchanged an exasperated eyeroll with Roshi. **“I’m taking you to task, bitch, keep up.”**

“What?”

**“Do shut up. I promised Beni-chan I wouldn’t kill you, but it’s becoming rather difficult.”**

The woman dared to look confused. “Why would you want to kill me? What have I done?”

Choumei cocked one of Beni’s eyebrows at her. **“Are you serious? You mean to tell me you haven’t been torturing my brother literally since the day he was sealed inside you?”**

She really didn’t get it. She was just staring at him, completely baffled that he would have a problem with the way she treated Kurama.

“The Nine Tails is a beast,” she said with slow, measured words, clearly not understanding that she was no longer speaking to Beni-chan. “It can’t be reasoned with. None of the bijuu can, that’s why they were sealed away!”

Choumei sighed again, running a hand over Beni-chan’s face. Wait. He had the perfect come back! Oooh! How did that song go??

Ah!

 **“You think the only people who are people are the people who look and think like you,”** he recited, just barely resisting the urge to sing. **“That’s your problem. My father built this temple for me thousands of years ago, and I stayed here, _for thousands of years_ , until _your_ Hokage decided to pry me out!” **Again, he had to take a breath, lest he kill her just for existing. Kurama would survive, just fine, but Beni-chan’s respect for him…

**“You know what, go to sleep. I can’t deal with you.”**

Her eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped over, her body draped across her lover’s like a shadow of that play from Beni-chan’s world with the daggers and the poison and the civil hands made unclean.

“Huh.” Roshi reached up and scratched at the beginnings of a beard. “You gonna do that to me, too?”

**“Do I need to?”**

The human shook his head. “Nah, I don’t think so.” His dark eyes were serious as he looked at Choumei. “Hime-chan’s ok in there, right?”

 **“Of course!”** How dare he think otherwise?

“Then we’re good.” The red headed man crouched, his arms propped up on his elbows. “So, _Choumei_ , was it? I didn’t think you guys had names.”

Ah. _Ah!_ Yes, this was good. The woman was a dutiful cog in the machine called Konoha, heir to the literal _first_ jinchuriki. She was stuck in her ways, but Roshi! Roshi was already a cynic, mistrustful of his government and taking action to avoid his duties as a bijuu’s host. Didn’t he also defect in the ‘canon’?

 **“We do,”** he said, trying no t to come across as too desperate. **“Our father gave them to us.”**

“Huh.” He looked up, sucking at his teeth as he mulled over his words. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of your parents. As far as anyone knows, you guys are just natural disasters made real. Or the product of human hatred corrupting natural chakra.”

Choumei scoffed and almost said something derogatory, but reconsidered. **“I can see where you might get that idea,”** he began. **“Ku-The Kyuubi can sense human emotions and has always been sensitive to things like anger and hatred. He made a habit of attacking battlefields just to get it to stop. The Hachibi is rather...eccentric. He used to go around challenging strong people to duels. The Yonbi, too, actually. It wasn’t very surprising to hear they had been captured.”**

As much as it hurt not to call his siblings by their names, he wasn’t about to give them away to someone who hadn’t earned them. Jinchuriki, in particular, had to receive the names of their bijuu buddies directly from them.

Roshi placed a hand on his chest, clutching at the garish purple fabric. If Choumei had to guess, he’d say that was where his seal was, but he couldn’t be sure. Taki had always placed his seal on the back, but he knew that Kurama’s were usually on the abdomen. He didn’t know much about how the others were sealed. It was a personal tragedy they all had to suffer, and a very private one. None of them brought it up when they reached out to one another. Such rare contact wasn’t to be spoiled by such unhappy thoughts.

“Does…does the Yonbi have a name?”

 **“Hmph, of course he does! But I’m not telling!”** He pointed one of Beni-chan’s fingers at him. **“You’ll have to hear it from him, yourself!”**

Roshi nodded, accepting that pretty easily. “Yeah, that makes sense.” He looked at Choumei, again, his expression more serious than he’d ever seen it. “I don’t suppose I can ask about you two.”

Choumei cocked Beni-chan’s head. **“That depends on what you want to ask.”**

The human shook his head. “Nah. Forget it. That’s not something I should ask when Hime-chan can’t speak for herself.” Well, how kind of him. Choumei would be sure to show her this conversation, so she could dismiss her fears about Roshi betraying her. “What about them?”

Ah, yes. The Konoha bunch.

Choumei curled his lip as he looked them over. He really didn’t want to deal with them more than he had to. The woman was blindly loyal to her village and all the lies it fed her. One conversation may have been enough to get through to Roshi, but she was a harder nut to crack. Her man, too, was an enabler. He was already dead by the time the ‘canon’ started, but his actions made it clear exactly how he thought of bijuu. Really, cutting Kurama’s soul _in half???_ Was he insane?

**“I’ll erase their memories and dump them outside.”**

“You can do that?”

Probably. He shrugged. **“We’ll find out. Oh,”** he turned to Sakumo. **“Not him, though. He’s fine.”**

“Can I ask why?”

**“He was the first human Beni-chan met after leaving her village. It’ annoying, but he’s special to her.”**

Roshi nodded. “Makes sense. By village, you mean Taki, I’m assuming?”

Ah. Oops.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m only asking because if Taki is in this area, then the war will get even messier. They’re widely considered the most dangerous village, if only because no one actually knows where they are. If we overstay our welcome, then I don’t want to think of what they’ll do to us.”

‘Us’ being the humans fighting in the region.

“Ah, shit.” Choumei looked to Roshi in surprise. “This means I’m gonna have to deal with this pig by myself, doesn’t it?”

Ha. Choumei had forgotten about their reason for letting the three foreigners into the temple. Was it really that hard to deal with one boar?

He almost offered to help, but he didn’t. He had brains to fiddle with, after all. Hopefully, his skills weren’t totally rusty.

Hopefully.


	16. Curious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You never do know what's around the bend  
> A big adventure or a brand new friend  
> When you're curious

Sakumo opened his eyes to arguing. It wasn’t unusual to have disagreements break out among the troops, especially in the face of the overwhelming power of Kumo’s front line. The Land of Lightning was filled with powerful shinobi, every other ninja a heavy hitter. Might made right in Kumo, after all. Konoha barely managed to preserve its own borders using agility and guile, the many kekkei genkai of its Clans working in tandem to keep Kumo back. With so many different temperaments forced to share quarters for so long, it was only natural that some clash.

But not so loudly. Did those idiots want to be attacked? Konoha’s advantage came from their better stealth, but no amount of genjutsu would hide _those_ voices.

It was only after sitting up that he remembered he wasn’t on the frontlines, anymore. He was sitting on the floor of Benihime’s temple home, a worn, threadbare blanket draped over him. He wasn’t in the kitchen, this time, and a quick look around told him he was probably in the bedroom. There was a raised cot pressed against a back wall, jars and scrolls stuffed underneath it in haphazard storage. There were shelves, but they, too, were laden with jars likely filled with foodstuffs. The cot, itself, was little more than a woven mat laid over a wooden platform and he realized with a guilty start that he had the only blanket.

This was nothing like a child’s room should be. Benihime was only eight. She should be at an academy, playing with children her age, learning the history of her village, giggling over boys like girls often did, and going home to a family with warm meals she didn’t have to hunt down and a bed covered in soft blankets. Instead, she was here, in a crumbling temple, sleeping on a wooden slab and giving her blanket to a stranger.

Speaking of, why was he in her bedroom?

The last thing he remembered was…something about an argument between Kushina and the man who lived at the temple—Roshi, was it? He’d stepped outside to see what it was about and…

Nothing. That was it.

Concerning.

He stood, folding the blanket neatly and laying it on the cot. He walked through Benihime’s home, taking it in with a shinobi’s eye. There were no doors, only empty archways were doors might have been, long ago. A long hallway ran through the building, rooms branching off on either side with an alcove at the very end. There was a shrine there, he noted, though not to any god he recognized. There was a green lacquered statue of a rhinoceros beetle, its horn stained by generations of worshippers applying red dye. Above it, there were two sticks tied together, one longer than the other. He could think of no meaning for it, but there were candles, incense, and food offerings left on the table beneath it, so it clearly had some significance. He spent all of one second wondering where the girl had found such luxuries as candles and incense before remembering they were, technically, in a temple. Even if no one could reach it, such things were a staple in all religions across the Elemental Nations.

As he walked down the hall, he peeked into the rooms he passed. Many were empty, completely devoid of even basic furniture. One or two, toward the front of the home, were used for storage. The kitchen was one of the last rooms before the exit out to the courtyard, the mushrooms and plants he remembered Benihime washing now neatly stored away in jars of their own or laid out to dry on circular mats she probably wove herself. It was a traditional kitchen. Only the oldest buildings in Konoha still had them, as many civilian homes and even some of the more progress minded Clans switching over to the more ‘modern’ style kitchens with gas stoves and electric cold storage. His home was one of them, his wife insisting on the ‘safer’ stove with knobs and a taller height when she learned she was with child.

Ah, Kakashi. How was he doing? Was Dai taking care of him? Was he eating alright? He was going through a picky eating phase the last time he saw him. Had he gotten over it?

Sakumo sighed, pushing thoughts of his son aside as he pushed aside the door, realizing almost belatedly that it had no hinges, but was instead tied in place using rope threaded through holes bored into the stone.

“I don’t wanna!” The sound of a child’s whining made it abruptly clear he wasn’t on the frontlines anymore. “It’s gross!”

“Well, you want sausage, right? You need intestines for that.”

“No! It’s icky! You do it!”

“I’m trying to, brat, but you need to learn how to do it, yourself.”

“Why? That’s what you’re for!”

“Brat!”

Ah, it was Benihime and Roshi, arguing over how they were going to preserve a large boar. The girl—nearly as tall as the young man beside her—was pressing her hands to her ears, green eyes wide and full lips downturned. Roshi was trying to frown through a teasing grin, his hands elbow deep in the guts of the poor animal. They looked like a pair of siblings, the elder poking fun at the younger as they performed their chores.

Sakumo glanced around the courtyard, taking in the troupe of monkeys drinking from the turtle infested waters of the sacred pool and an errant fox kit dragging away what looked like a strip of preserved meat from where others hung to dry.

Where were Minato and Kushina?

“Old man!”

He scowled at the nickname, flashbacks to his childhood running through his mind. Benihime stood beside a grinning Roshi, one hand pointing at him as she pouted cutely.

“Tell him! It’s yucky!”

Ah. Was he to play the adult in this…odd family dynamic of theirs?

He sighed. “It is yucky, _but,_ ” he interjected as she turned to stick her tongue out at Roshi. “It’s also necessary if you don’t want to waste the pig’s blood. Where are Minato and Kushina?”

Benihime’s expression froze in the middle of a grimace, eyes going wide in that way most children’s did when caught being naughty. Even Kakashi, genius though he was, made that face. She glanced frantically at Roshi. The Iwa shinobi just shrugged his shoulders, turning back to his work inside the pig.

“They got kicked out.”

What?

“Roshi,” Benihime hissed.

“What? They did. They broke the rules of the temple and they got kicked out.”

Sakumo pressed his fingers to his temple as he tried to remember what might have caused such a severe penalty.

Wait.

“You’re a jinchuriki.”

Roshi sighed, his dark eyes narrowing as he turned them on Sakumo. “And? Is that an issue?”

“No,” Sakumo said hastily. He may be strong, but he wasn’t bijuu strong. He couldn’t afford to offend such a powerful man. “I was just remembering. Were you the one who removed my subordinates?”

The redhead snorted. “No. That was the god of this temple.”

Ah. Right. “The beetle?”

Roshi’s red brows rose in appreciation. “Yeah! The _beetle_.”

He said it strangely and Benihime glared fiercely at him but Sakumo clearly missed some kind of inside joke.

“Are they well?”

“They’re fine,” Benihime told him, short golden brows furrowed with what looked like worry. “They were taken to the nearest Konoha encampment and left within the patrol range. They’ve already been found and everything.”

Roshi whistled in appreciation. “Damn. Those bugs of yours tell you everything, huh? It’s like having your own spy network.”

Indeed. That was a formidable skill for a shinobi to have and one of the reasons the Hokage wanted to gain her loyalty.

“And me? Why was I not taken with them?”

“Because she likes you.”

“Roshi!”

Sakumo watched with growing amusement as the jinchuriki flicked blood at the strange girl to keep her from tackling him with all the outrage an eight year old could summon. She shrieked in disgust, running to the pool to splash water on her face as Roshi laughed at her expense. Yes, they were very much like siblings.

“Ah, that reminds me,” he said, reaching into his kunai pouch for the seal scroll he’d brought with him. He didn’t overlook the way Roshi tensed, likely prepared for an attack if what they said about his two kouhai was true. He wasn’t quite sure he believed it, but he knew firsthand the peculiarities of the temple—and his orders. So long as they were safe, he couldn’t risk his own expulsion for their sake. “I brought something to offer.”

“The temple isn’t accepting offerings from Konoha.”

“I know,” he said with a smile, ignoring the odd chill in the air following Benihime’s words. “It’s for the turtle.”

Her angry glare immediately transformed into delighted surprise, her laughter ringing out across the stone courtyard. “Really!? Ha! That’s one way to ask him not to eat you!”

Indeed. He unrolled the scroll and added enough chakra to pull out the roll of fish jerky. He walked over to Benihime where she sat beside the pool, looking up at him eagerly. Ah, but she was cute. Hints of her crooked eyeteeth peeked at him from under her lip and her eyes were practically glowing with excitement. It would be nice if Kakashi looked at him like that. His little tyke was too serious for a boy his age and Sakumo felt a new wave of guilt swell within his as he thought about the part he’d played in that.

“Here,” he crouched down beside the girl. “I don’t imagine he gets very much fish living in there.”

She took the roll of jerky from him, turning it over in her hands before sniffing at it experimentally. She broke off a piece and tossed it into the water, the turtle swallowing it whole in an instant. Such a terrifying beast.

“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten a fish,” she said quietly, clearly just thinking out loud. “There aren’t any rivers or lakes nearby, and this guy eats anything that ends up in his pond.”

She tossed another piece of fish jerky to the turtle and Sakumo thought over her words. It was a little sad, but he knew he only felt that way because so many of Konoha’s traditional dishes centered around fish caught from the Naka river.

“What do you normally eat, then?” He asked, genuinely curious.

“Rabbits, mostly. Sometimes a bird. Mushi shows me mushrooms and those are always tasty! I have a book that shows me which plants are edible, so I can make a much tastier soup for you if you get sick again!”

Ah, of course she remembered that. Not his finest moment, in or out of uniform. It brought her so much trouble, too.

“We’ll be eating pork for the foreseeable future,” Roshi called over to them, not even pretending he wasn’t listening in. “So long as _somebody_ gets over here and helps me butcher this thing.”

“Menyenyemenyeh~.”

Despite her mockery, Benihime did get up and join her friend. Sakumo followed.

“Can I help?” While helping them with their chores would go a long way to improving relations between the temple and Konoha, it was also just good manners.

Roshi jerked his chin toward the book he was reading when Sakumo and his kouhai first arrived. “Read that for me, will you? The brat’s illiterate and my hands are full.”

…

Illiterate?

That…made sense, in sad kind of way. Who would teach her if she lived all on her own? He had no idea how long Roshi had lived with her, but it clearly wasn’t enough for her to learn. Plus, he didn’t seem the teaching type. It was still a bit hard for him to wrap his head around, though. Kakashi could already read and write and he was less than half her age. Perhaps…his standards were skewed?

“Hey!” She scowled over crossed arms. “It’s not my fault!”

“Nobody said it was,” Sakumo said patiently. He opened the book—recognizing it belatedly as an Akimichi recipe collection—and turned it to a marked page on pork preservation and preparation. He presented the page to Benihime. “See these two? Together, they mean pork.”

She looked at the kanji couplet he pointed to. “What do they mean apart?”

“Pig meat.”

She snorted. “How unexpectedly literal.”

“A lot of kanji are.”

She smiled up at him, revealing those outpointing cuspids of hers. “Show me another one!”

Ah, she really was cute.


	17. Hey Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey brother! There's an endless road to rediscover  
> Hey sister! Know the water's sweet but blood is thicker  
> Oh, if the sky comes falling down, for you  
> There's nothing in this world I wouldn't do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty! So, Benihime won the poll by a very large margin. Apologies to those of you who voted for the other options, but I also voted for Beni, lol. I have learned my lesson. I will never again try to be clever in a language I don't speak, lmao. I have already changed all the chapters to have Beni instead of Unko, so I invite you to read them through again to make the name change less jarring. 
> 
> I also deleted the massive author's notes, but we all know what went down, lol. 
> 
> A reminder: Benihime (紅姫), or just Beni, is a reference to Benzaiten, the only female among the Seven Gods of Luck in Japanese mythos, and to the color red (beni) being a lucky color in a broader Asian context. In the rewrite of chapter 7, Benzaiten is not mentioned because I figure Choumei serves as the Narutoverse's God of Luck, but it was part of my decision to include the name in the poll. 
> 
> Another change: Roshi calls her Hime-chan instead of Uu-chan. I think it's still just as cute. :)
> 
> Thanks to everyone who participated in the poll and who pointed out my mistake! Here's hoping I never make one on that scale, again!

Roshi watched the man from Konoha through narrowed eyes as he explained kanji to an illiterate child. She was looking at him like he’d placed the stars in the sky, her green eyes glittering with excitement as he patiently told her the symbolism behind each component.

Tch.

Well, the Nana— _Choumei_ —told him, didn’t he? The White Fang, most formidable soldier in Konoha’s army, was _special_ to her. The first human to see her and not immediately go for the kill, even though he probably should have. Sure, Roshi could see why she’d get attached. She’d latched onto him pretty quickly, too, chattering up a storm until he got fed up and told her off. He regretted that, his impulsive demand for quiet a mistake he desperately wished to undo in the face of her crestfallen expression. She was much quieter now, even though he never commented on it again. She was a kid, for all she was nearly his height, and impressionable. Iwa kept him away from children, even the shinobi ones, for fear that the Yonbi—he still needed to learn his name—would run rampant and kill an entire generation. Even when he was a child, himself, he was isolated from his peers, treated with the odd juxtaposition of care and fear that all jinchuriki had to deal with. As an adult, he did the isolating himself, believing himself to be the threat he’d always been called.

Now, though…

Both Hime-chan and Choumei told him about the beast sealed inside him, the child somehow able to contact the great monkey from within her own mind. As terrible a calamity as he was, the Yonbi was still a primate at the end of the day, and he was governed by the same instincts as the troupe of monkeys living at the temple—who were meant to represent him, he realized with a smile. He was a social animal forced to live alone, just like Roshi. Was it any wonder he was so bitter all the time? Roshi certainly was, before stumbling across his little kouhai.

Really, he should have realized she was like him sooner. He remembered feeling bijuu chakra in the air and dismissing it as his own without much thought, even going so far as to distance himself from the temple and the child within, lest he accidentally lose control and hurt her. She’d welcomed him with somewhat open arms, not even asking him where he came from or why he didn’t want to go back. In hindsight, this was clearly because she already knew, gossiping about him with two bijuu like an old woman with too many grandchildren, but at the time he was grateful to be given the chance to exist without justifying his presence.

“Roshi!” He looked up as she ran over to him where he sat lounging on one of the walls surrounding the courtyard. “I can write my name now! Look!”

She held up a paper torn from one of the other books given to her by the many Konoha teams sent to sway her loyalties. Sure enough, there, in splotchy ink, was her name. It was crooked and needed finessing, but it was more than she’d ever written before.

“Wonderful,” he said with a smirk. “Now you can sign away your soul.”

She scowled up at him, but he saw the uncertainty growing in her eyes. She was a sensitive soul, his Hime-chan. Always waiting for the other shoe to drop. It was one of the reasons he made sure to say everything in the same teasing tone, so he could gage her reaction and pull out before he caused her any undue stress. It was likely a result of being a child jinchuriki, though he hadn’t asked her about it, yet. Even he hadn’t seriously considered leaving his village until he was well into his teens, only acting on it now that he was in his twenties and a war kept Iwa from sending anyone after him. She’d actually done it, and at a much younger age than eight, if he was understanding it right. She’d lived on her own in the temple for a while before he happened upon her, Choumei serving as her only parent, friend, and mentor.

“You’re good with children,” he called out to Sakumo, turning Hime-chan’s attention away from his words and back to the man she idolized. “Is that a village requirement or do you have some hell spawn of your own?”

The smile he got in return was strained, clearly worn rather than felt. It looked like he wasn’t the only one keeping the princess’ emotions in mind. “I am a parent, yes.”

Oh. That was more information than Roshi thought he’d be willing to share. It was probably another tactic to try and connect with Hime-chan. “Woah, really? Any tykes the brat’s age?”

Most shinobi would refrain from discussing their family in any capacity, especially when the one asking technically belonged to an enemy village, but the princess was interested. Roshi could feel her radiating curiosity as she waited for Sakumo to answer. If he wanted to fulfil whatever evil child manipulating orders he had, he would need to tell them something.

“Ah, no, my oldest is only three, though he’ll be four, soon.”

“Aww, how cute! Is he a little old man, too?”

Roshi laughed out loud at the nickname she’d given their guest. He clearly didn’t like it, but he didn’t say anything, either. The silver hair of the Hatake Clan marked them like spots on a poison toad, giving their enemies the chance to flee before they fell beneath a White Chakra blade. To Hime-chan, though, he just looked old.

It seemed Sakumo had no issues with the nickname being applied to someone else, even if it was his child. He laughed, the corners of his eyes creasing with genuine sentiment. “His hair is silver, yes. It’s a marker of our Clan.”

Hime-chan made an appreciative noise, her happy glow fading. “He must be lonely. He’d probably be sad if he found out you were out here playing with me, huh?”

Damn it.

Roshi glared at the Konoha shinobi even though it wasn’t his fault. “Come on, Hime-chan. The war’s been going on longer than he’s been alive. He’s probably used to it.”

That…didn’t help. Why did he think it would help? He had zero experience with children! He should have left it to the man who had one!

“That’s so sad, though,” she was saying, the paper with her name crushed to her chest as she wrapped her arms around herself. “He’s just a baby.” She looked up at Sakumo with a fire in her eyes. “You said he’s turning four, soon! When’s his birthday? You should go see him!”

Well, Roshi certainly wouldn’t mind sending the older man on his way. With any luck, he’d never be able to find the temple, again, and he and his cute little kouhai could go back to their lives.

“September is a long way away, Beni-chan.”

She cocked her head, golden halo of curls bouncing with the movement. “Is it? What month is it now?”

Roshi’s smile faded as Sakumo informed her that it was, in fact, March. Damn. So, he’d be stuck with the man for at least another six months. Tch.

“When’s your birthday, Hime-chan?” He asked, trying to distract her from the sad thought of a child without a father. “We can have a party.”

The obnoxiously tall eight year old was quiet for a long moment and he immediately knew he’d fucked up again. “I don’t know.” Her voice was small and her eyes downcast, full bottom lip pushed out in a pout. “I think it was in summer, but I can’t—.”

Fuck.

He was starting to understand why she left her village at such a young age. Even he knew his birthday, though no one ever celebrated it. It was part of his file and, even if it wasn’t, there was one person, a caretaker whose name he’d long forgotten, who’d mentioned it and the customs he’d never get to partake in. She was a kid and probably wouldn’t have had access to her paperwork, but it was heartbreaking to think that no one had ever thought to give her a gift or even mention it as a cruel reminder that she was different from everyone else. Was that their fate as jinchuriki?

His face twisted as a sour taste filled his mouth.

“My birthday’s in summer, too, brat,” he said with a patently fake smile. “What do you think? Wanna share?”

She looked up at him with open mouthed surprise, her grip on the paper with her name slackening. The crumpled thing fell to the ground as she jumped at him, hitting his chest with more strength than he’d anticipated and sending them both over the wall. He hit the moss covered forest floor with a sharp exhale, the air forced from his lungs by the him sized child on his chest. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his neck, her face buried in the crook of his shoulder.

“Woah, Hime-chan,” he said gruffly, hands held up and away from him as she did her damnedest to choke him to death. “What’s all this?”

She pulled back and his voice died in his throat. Her green eyes were glistening with unshed tears as she looked down at him, all her teeth bared in the widest smile he’d ever seen. She radiated happiness and a strange warmth began to spread through him, starting in his seal and moving outward to suffuse his chest.

“Roshi, you’re the best senpai ever!”

Well, of course he was. He’d butchered that entire boar practically by himself, after all, and he’d rebuilt half the temple without any help. Those words sat on his tongue, ready to be said, but he couldn’t voice them. He didn’t want to turn…whatever this was into another bout of teasing. She was happy. Truly, exuberantly happy. And he’d made her that way.

Take that Sakumo.

As if he could read Roshi’s mind, the older shinobi called down to them from the spot on the wall they’d just vacated.

“You two alive down there?”

“Old man!” The princess turned to look up at him, her smile still in place. “You can stay until our birthday then you can leave for Kakashi’s! How does that sound?”

Roshi was a little too busy basking in the word ‘our’ to really notice the fact that she knew the kid’s name despite not being told. The old man leaving would be an excellent birthday present.


	18. Runs in the Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is traditional.  
> It is inherited.  
> Predispositional  
> Day I've been wondering what is inside of me, who can I blame for it?  
> I say it runs in the family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is two (2) words short of the 1700 minimum wordcount I set for myself at the beginning of the month. However, I have an essay I'm supposed to be writing, so I'll just try and get y'all an extra long chapter tomorrow or Friday.

Beni pushed her hair up and out of her face, the sweat soaked curls now just long enough to be a nuisance. More than two years after she’d cut her hair using chakra borrowed from Choumei, gravity finally asserting itself on the golden coils. She was a little disappointed about that, since she liked the way her reflection in the turtle pool looked sort of like a Catholic fresco, her hair a glowing halo around an indistinct face. She still wasn’t quite sure what she looked like, but she found she was surprisingly ok with that. After a lifetime scrutinizing her face and finding it lacking in the most gut wrenching of ways, the years she’d spent without a reflective surface had really helped her self-esteem.

“You’re very good with that,” Roshi said with a smile, gesturing to the Nyoi Bo in her hands with a jerk of his chin. “Where’d you learn?”

She twirled the heavy staff absently, smiling despite the ache in her arms. “A monkey taught me.”

His expression went blank for a second before realization dawned across his face. She laughed, using the magic stick to support her weight as she sank to the ground, her limbs twitching from exertion. Today marked the third time Roshi had joined her for her morning practice, the older jinchuriki coaching her through a spar. In her past life, she was never more active than the public school curriculum demanded, her gym class the only time she exercised, ever. She wasn’t in bad shape, but she wasn’t particularly fit, either. Now, though, she was buff. A weird term to describe a child, but it was true. She liked looking at the way her biceps moved as she used her staff, liked being able to carry heavy things without help, liked _waking up early to work out_.

Ewwww~.

“Are you serious? He taught you?”

She nodded, smirking up at him as he continued to stand there, gobsmacked. She knew from Choumei that he hadn’t yet managed to have a proper conversation with Son Goku, though he had tried. Both man and beast had rather…abrasive personalities, on the surface, anyway. The similarities between their bristly exteriors and warm, possessive interiors had Beni wondering just how much a bijuu influenced a jinchuriki’s personality. How much had Choumei affected her in their two years together?

**Not much.**

Uh-huh. Right. Because she could totally trust the one doing the affecting.

**Hey! If you ask me, all the changes have been for the better.**

Oh, so there were changes?

**Hmph.**

Roshi looked like he wanted to ask questions, but Sakumo was sitting on the wall, watching them with dark eyes. She was fine with that, since it wasn’t like she had any secret techniques for him to steal, but it did make talking to Roshi harder than necessary. There were a lot of things left unsaid between them after she woke up to find two out of three Konoha shinobi gone and the beetle shaped beans spilled. She was glad that Sakumo didn’t know. Konoha was already trying to use her, it would only get worse if they thought they could get their hands on another jinchuriki without having to steal it. Still, she wanted to talk to Roshi about it.

“Having fun up there?”

Roshi had also turned his attention to their audience, his words and expression unfriendly.

Sakumo had a surprisingly thick skin. Maybe it was because she knew how he was supposed to die, but she expected him to be more sensitive. Roshi called him all sorts of names, sometimes bordering on cruel, but he never reacted. With a sad sigh, she realized the words of a stranger from an enemy nation wouldn’t hurt nearly as much as friends from his own village.

“Certainly,” the White Fang said with false cheer. “It’s always fun watching someone else work up a sweat.”

Heh. He was right about that.

Beni once again brushed her hair from her face. It wasn’t long enough to pull into a ponytail, yet, and she was nervous to even try it. There was an invisible wall between her and her hair in her mind, a threshold she was afraid to cross. She still had no idea how to really take care of it. She did her best using soap berries and the few hygiene products the supply scroll from Konoha had inside, but it was mostly guesswork. She was reluctant to try anything with it, lest she inadvertently damage it to the point of needing to cut it, again. She knew it was silly and vain, since she had no idea what she actually looked like, but she was still attached to the idea of long hair. She didn’t know if it even suited her, but she wanted it. So badly.

“Oh?” Roshi bared his teeth at Sakumo, looking very much like Son Goku in that moment. “That’s how your village always operates, right? Letting others do the work while you claim the victory.”

Oh, dear.

Sakumo didn’t rise to the bait, the faint smile on his face as much a mask as the ivory Wolf mask he’d worn when she met him.

For a man who was doing his best to avoid a war, Roshi sure did try to start a lot of fights.

He wasn’t even breathing hard after their spar, though, so he probably needed a stronger opponent to get all his wiggles out. After a lifetime of training for combat, playing around with a kid surely wasn’t fulfilling. That being said, playing around with her was very different from challenging a foreign shinobi. If the two adults went at each other, the odds of it devolving into actual violence were too high to risk it. The temple was finally starting to look presentable, again. There was no need to destroy it in a perfectly avoidable pissing contest.

Roshi was sticking around the temple a lot more than he used to. He was probably guarding against Sakumo, but it was clearly making him restless. She never asked what he did when he left the temple, but it wasn’t hard to imagine he was fighting. Being stuck in the temple for weeks on end with only a kid and an old man for company must have been incredibly boring.

Sucks to suck. She was having fun.

“Hey, old man!” She loved the way his face scrunched up when she called him that. She probably shouldn’t be provoking a man of his stature, but she was a cute little girl his dictator wanted to bring into the fold. He could scowl all he wanted, but he had no choice but to accept her teasing. “Are we gonna learn more, today?”

It had to be boring for Sakumo, too. Day in, day out, all he did was teach her new words from the cookbook—the only one Roshi let him use, since the others were “chock full of Konoha propaganda”—maybe do some stretches or ask about her life at the temple. He never stepped outside the courtyard, likely afraid of not being let back in, so he was probably feeling even more cooped up than Roshi. She, at least, left regularly to find food and just escape the swamp of testosterone gathering in her home. Beetles didn’t throw veiled threats at each other or try to one up each other at random tasks. Beetles were happy to just buzz around and go looking for mushrooms. Beetles were the best.

She really did forget how to be a person, huh? Was Choumei doing that? Tch, unlucky.

Sakumo, clearly feeling the burden of being stuck in an enclosed space with a child he wasn’t genetically inclined to love. He would be super happy to see his kid when he finally left them. The little Kakashi she remembered was a serious kid, so Sakumo probably missed him extra bad. Beni wasn’t serious, at all, and she even went out of her way to be goofier than she might have been, otherwise, since she knew he couldn’t really complain. He was trapped and she was gonna take advantage of that for as long as she could.

After all, where else was she gonna find someone to teach her Japanese? Roshi sure as fuck wasn’t gonna do it.

**He might try, if you implied he couldn’t.**

Ha! He would, too!

“Sure thing, Beni-chan,” Sakumo replied, voice betraying some of his fatigue. “Let me get the book.”

He disappeared in a shunshin, leaving her in the courtyard with Roshi. Whew. Crisis averted.

“I don’t know why you like him so much,” the older jinchuriki grumbled as he began his cool down stretches—never mind that he hadn’t even worked up a sweat. “He’s such a stick in the mud.”

“Yeah,” she agreed with a sigh. “But he’s cute.”

Roshi fell over, catching himself with an open mouthed look of disgust warping his face. Beni laughed, throwing her head back and howling with joy. She stuck her tongue out at him, scrunching her nose for good measure.

“White Fang? More like Silver Fox.”

“No! Shut up!” Roshi pressed his hands to his ears, shaking his head like a toddler being served vegetables. “Shut up! I don’t want to hear it!”

Ha! It wasn’t often she had the upper hand in a bout of teasing, but when she did…Hoh, but she milked it.

“As flattering as that is,” Sakumo said dryly, sending a flare of heat into her cheeks as she realized he’d probably heard every word. “I’m afraid I’m not on the market.”

Gah! How embarrassing! She was just playing with Roshi, she didn’t mean to be overheard!

She had two options: crawl into a hole and die or own it.

She turned to him, the smile on her face just a little too wide. “That’s too bad. Not everyone’s lucky enough to catch my eye, you know. I have expensive taste.”

He chuckled, no doubt taking in her blush and strained expression and finding lots of things to laugh at. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Roshi was laughing at her, too! The tables were turned too quickly, she wasn’t prepared.

Tch. So unlucky.


	19. Pocket Full of Sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Take me away  
> A secret place   
> A sweet escape   
> Take me away   
> Take me away   
> To better days   
> Take me away   
> A hiding place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is 11:20 pm! I am not late! 
> 
> Did you know, adult Han is 7.5 feet tall!?! (That's approx. 230 cm!) Insane! Roshi's only 4'11" (150cm)! That's such a difference! LMAO

Han did his best not to yawn as the meeting continued. It had already gone longer than expected, but it showed no signs of ending. Iwa was officially pulling out of the region, leaving the moss covered forest to the Land of Fire. Han hadn’t spent much time there—wasn’t even supposed to leave the village, really, given his age—but he’d heard the stories. Disappearing battlefields, malfunctioning compasses and useless maps, a missing jinchuriki…

Roshi wasn’t someone Han knew well, but he was one of the only people who willingly associated with him, their shared status as hosts for tailed beasts giving them a common ground despite the difference in their ages. When word reached Iwa that he had stopped reporting back to his handlers or even appearing on battlefields, something like concern had welled up inside Han. Panic had nearly rocked the village elders, but the Tsuchikage quelled their fears. If Roshi was dead, then the Yonbi would reappear somewhere in the next decade or so. If it didn’t, then he was a deserter and by then Han would be old enough to hunt him down like the criminal he was.

Privately, in a horrible corner of his heart, Han hoped he was dead. The idea of hunting him down after he’d finally managed to escape was awful. If Han was free, then he wouldn’t want Roshi to hunt him, either.

He tried, but he couldn’t contain the yawn that stretched his sinuses.

“Enough,” the commanding jounin said with a sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose and glared at Han. “Someone, get that thing out of here before it collapses. We have enough to deal with without a demon breaking loose.”

A hand fell on his shoulder, firmly pulling him from the tent before he could think to explain that falling asleep wouldn’t let the Gobi out of its seal. Night had fallen in the forest, but that somehow made it even weirder. Without the hustle and bustle of daytime activity, the eerie silence in the air was like a weight on everyone’s shoulders. There were no insects chirping, no animals hunting, nothing. The only sounds were the ones the shinobi made themselves, the ones they were trained to hide using the ambient sounds of the world around them. It was so jarring to be so loud.

Han was led through the camp to the tent that was set up for him. His handler pushed him inside not ungently.

“Try and get some sleep,” he was told. “There’s no telling if you’ll be needed tomorrow.”

He wouldn’t be. He wasn’t allowed to engage with the enemy and no one wanted him to help pack up camp, so he would spend the day sitting around doing nothing. Again. There were children his age around and they made no secret of their resentment. They were fighting, but he had only just left the village for the first time in his life. It wasn’t his fault, but he couldn’t help feeling guilty.

“Psst, hey, Han.”

He turned around in surprise. Roshi was standing at the back of the tent, a hand raised in front of his mouth to signal for silence. Relief flooded through Han as he beheld his fellow jinchuriki for the first time in almost a year. His red hair was longer than he remembered and there was a beard starting to take shape on his face. His purple clothing was somewhat frayed around the hems and he wasn’t wearing his armor.

“What are you doing here?” Han whispered, stepping closer to keep others from hearing them. “They think you might be dead.”

Roshi smiled, the expression more a baring of teeth. “They won’t for much longer. Come on. We’ve got to go while they’re busy.”

Go? Go where?

His confusion must have been clear because Roshi reached out, grabbing the sleeve of his kimono and tugging him closer.

“Grab what you need and let’s go. They won’t be able to follow us, I promise.”

That…was he…was he trying to help Han escape, too?

“Really? You mean it?”

Han was taller than Roshi by a bit and the older shinobi reached up and pat his head, ruffling his dark hair.

“I mean it, kid. Trust me.”

Han hesitated for a moment. All his life, he’d been told he couldn’t leave the village without direct orders and a handler, or he’d be hunted down and killed, the Gobi resealed into someone else. If he went with Roshi…

What? Who would they send after him? Han was just a kid, so there were a bunch of people in Iwa who could beat him despite his jinchuriki status, but nobody could beat Roshi. If Roshi was helping him escape, though, then was there anything anyone could really do to him?

“Ok,” he said, a tiny bit of hope blooming in his chest. “Ok, give me a second.”

After gathering his meager belongings—a change of clothing and some armor—he followed Roshi out through the hole he’d cut in the back of the tent. He half expected someone to notice them as they ran into the forest, but no one did. Roshi led the way, pacing himself so Han could keep up. He must have had a destination in mind, but Han couldn’t imagine where. The forest all looked the same to him, but Roshi was making sharp turns, clearly recognizing his surroundings despite the monotony of the moss covered trees. Han stayed close behind him, his heart pounding in his chest. Sometimes he liked to think about the kind of life he could have if he left Iwa behind, but he knew it was impossible. He was never alone, his handlers overseeing his every action. Roshi, too. It was a miracle he’d managed to slip away, at all. Why had he returned to the camp? He’d endangered himself just to get Han. They weren’t even close.

The shorter shinobi came to a stop on the branch of a tree. Han stopped beside him.

“We’re here,” the redhead said with a smile, sweeping his arm out.

Han looked where he gestured and was surprised. There was a building there. A few, actually. Old ones, like the Tsuchikage’s house in Iwa. It looked like it had seen better days, some places little more than piles of rubble. The moonlight cask eerie shadows across the stone, white light reflecting off the rippling surface of a pool of water. Roshi leapt down into the enclosed courtyard, waving up at him to come down, too.

Han did so, looking around in confusion. How long had this building been there? How wasn’t it on any of Iwa’s maps?

Was that what Roshi meant when he said no one would find them?

“What’s this? You’ve brought a guest?”

Han tensed as Roshi turned to address the man who’d spoken. He was sitting on the roof of the one building that was completely intact. The moonlight caught in pale hair, making him seem like an otherworldly being in the night. Roshi bared his teeth at him, an expression the other man returned.

“You don’t get to ask questions, Konoha,” he sneered. “You’re the only guest here.”

Konoha?

A chill ran down Han’s spine. Had Roshi switched sides? They were at war with Konoha. How could he—?

“Oh? I think I have a right to wonder what kind of people you’re bringing into the temple, considering who else lives here.”

“Shut up,” Roshi snapped. “He’s her age, old man. She needs some friends, and I don’t see you bringing your brat over to visit.”

The Konoha shinobi’s expression soured and he opened his mouth to respond, but someone else beat him to it.

“Can you guys shut up? Some of us are trying to sleep, like normal people.”

The door to the building the pale man was perched on swung open, revealing someone rubbing at their eyes. They stepped out into the moonlight, golden curls catching the light. It was a girl, he realized. She was wearing a red Iwa style kimono, but she looked nothing like anyone he’d ever seen in his life. He’d heard descriptions of the people of Kumo, their dark skin and curly hair setting them apart from much of the rest of the world. She blinked pale, pupiless eyes at him, cocking her head before turning to Roshi.

“You managed to get Han, then?”

How? Why did she know his name? Had Roshi told this stranger about him?

“So, you know about him? I should have guessed. You did the same thing to me.”

…

Maybe not, then.

“Beni-chan,” the pale shinobi began, his tone suddenly much more friendly. “Do you know him?”

The girl shrugged her shoulders, full lips pulled down in an exaggerated frown. “Does it matter? Roshi may have guided him here, but he wouldn’t have been able to get in if he was a threat to me or the temple. If Roshi’s vouching for him, then he’s extra welcome.”

How strange. This girl was obviously younger than the two shinobi, but her opinion seemed to weigh more than theirs.

She looked at him again, those pale green eyes regarding him for a long moment before her round face was brightened by a smile. She smirked at Roshi.

“You said he was my age, right?”

“Yeah,” his fellow jinchuriki confirmed. “I figured the both of you could do with some friends your own age.”

“So,” there was a light in her eyes, crooked eyeteeth catching the light of the moon as her smirk widened. “You’re saying an eight year old is taller than you?”

The courtyard was filled with silence. No. Not silence. For the first time since coming to the forest, Han could hear the sound of insects and animals going about their lives. He didn’t realize how comforting those sounds were until they were gone.

The pale shinobi snorted, trying to hold in a laugh and failing. Roshi growled at him.

“Shut up! You’re both freaks of nature! Watch, you two will end up too tall to function! Don’t come crying to me when your joints give out!”

The girl laughed brightly, sticking her tongue out at Roshi’s anger. Han wasn’t sure what to think of the situation, but Roshi was calm, if agitated, and he’d never seen the older jinchuriki without tension knotting his shoulders. For now, he would take his cues from the Yonbi’s host, but it didn’t look too bad.


	20. Happy Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And many more!   
> On channel four!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 11:30!!! I'm not late!!!!!! ..・ヾ(。＞＜)シ

“Han-chan! Han-chan! Come see what Mushi found!”

Sakumo watched as Benihime ran up to the new addition to the temple’s residency. The boy was friendly and quick to smile, but there was a wariness in his orange eyes that Sakumo—indeed, any experienced shinobi—recognized. This was a child who’d seen suffering. It was heartbreaking that a boy his age would already be out on the frontlines. He may have been taller than Roshi—a fact Benihime refused to let the jinchuriki forget—but he was still younger than the youngest genin out fighting for Konoha. The war had the academy handing out graduations sooner to bolster the fighting forces, but Sakumo wasn’t sure it was worth it. There were too many children sent away from the village only to never return. Iwa must be even more desperate, for children as young as Han to have shadows in their eyes.

Benihime was enamored with the boy. She had nothing but smiles for him, eagerly showing every nook and cranny of her home to her new friend. The boy was good natured and let himself be dragged around, smiling at the insects she presented like prized dogs. It was a little sad to watch, actually. She was so alone out here, she willingly associated with a known jinchuriki—though he was still unsure how well she understood what that meant—and welcomed him, a soldier of an enemy nation, into her home. Having someone her age around must have been a breath of fresh air.

Ah, but they were both very…large children. No eight year old in Konoha stood taller than an adult man. Though Roshi was rather short, it was still jarring to see. How tall were their parents? Sakumo wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know. Benihime, at least, had some ties to Kumo. Her hair and skin could only have come from there. Her file said she was from Taki, but Sakumo hadn’t had the opportunity to ask her about it. Roshi was so protective of both children, it was all Sakumo could do to speak to them.

He was still teaching Benihime to read, though—using books curated by Roshi, of course. She was a fast learner and eagerly absorbed every lesson. Soon, she wouldn’t need his help, and he was afraid he’d have no reason to stay beyond his mission. After a couple of months in her company, he’d come to be rather fond of the chipper girl and he was reluctant to reduce her to an asset for his village. She was sweet, if a bit strange, and he knew the temple was beyond her control. It was certainly influenced by her, but, even when she was gone, out foraging or checking her traps, no one new happened upon the ancient complex. He wasn’t in the loop regarding the fighting in the area, but he was sure there were still forces from both nations in the forest. Clearly, there was something keeping them at bay, and it wasn’t the happy girl with the golden hair.

“Lamenting your impending eviction?”

Roshi’s words caught him by surprise and he turned to look over at the other man. They were both perched on the wall above the moon gate the herd of cattle and horses used to enter the courtyard for the sacred pool. How they managed to drink from it with the beast of a turtle snapping at them from below the surface was beyond him. Han was good with the horses, he’d noticed, though they were skittish and wild. Roshi, too, had a rapport with the troupe of monkeys, the violent alpha male allowing him near even as he regarded the children with suspicion. All the animals avoided Sakumo.

“What do you mean?”

Roshi smiled, straight white teeth peaking out from the beard that was starting to take over his face. “You don’t remember? Tsk, tsk, tsk, how tragic.” He leaned over to Sakumo, dark eyes glittering with mischief. “It’s our birthday next week.”

For a moment, Sakumo was very confused. Our? What our? His birthday was in September and the next week would be the first in July—.

Ah. That’s right. He was supposed to leave after Benihime and Roshi’s shared birthday. That date marked the end of his welcome. Sure, he could stay after that point, but, if he did, he might be met with the same fate that befell his two juniors. No one had told him what exactly happened to them, only assuring him that they were alive and well. If he tried to stay past whatever birthday celebrations were in the works, he might find out firsthand exactly what happened.

“Ah,” he said, mind still racing. “That’s right. I’ll have to find a gift.”

Roshi snorted. “Don’t bother. Watching you leave will be the best present I’ve ever received.”

Sakumo wondered internally if the jinchuriki had ever received a gift at all, but he dismissed that rude thought before tit could take up space in his mind. “Not for you. For Beni-chan.”

Some of Roshi’s aggression left his expression. “Yeah. Kid deserves something nice.”

Indeed. She didn’t even know when her actual birthday was, so odds were she’d never celebrated it. He was long removed from the supply lines supporting Konoha’s occupation of the region as he was afraid to leave the temple lest he lose his access. The only things he had were his clothing, weapons, and armor. Roshi and Benihime were the ones who provided food, hinting and gathering in the forest. Since his arrival over a week past, he had taken to following in Benihime’s footsteps, leaving Sakumo alone in the courtyard with the turtle. He felt guilty about not contributing, so he tried to help prepare meals and preserve food, but Benihime often pushed him aside, declaring the sanctity of her organization ‘system’ and forbidding him from the kitchen. Roshi, too, and it looked like Han would soon be joining them.

Was there anything he could give her that she couldn’t just make for herself? She was so proficient at everything she did. Weaving baskets? She did it for fun. Preserving food? She could do it on her own, but she generously allowed him and Roshi to feel useful. Training? She had a routine in place that she let Roshi impose upon, sometimes. The only thing he’d ever done for her was piece her ears and it wasn’t like she had another set of earrings on hand that needed placing.

He would leave like he said he would, but he did want to give Benihime a parting gift. What could he give her? She had everything she needed and he didn’t have the means to give her anything she might want.

Unless…

* * *

“No~! Get out! You’ll ruin it!”

“You get out, brat!” Roshi growled, shoving her through the door of her own home. “You’re not allowed to cook, today!”

“It’s your birthday, too!” She returned, trying to push back against the much stronger man. “Why do you get to cook?”

“That’s my birthday present, Hime-chan,” he said with a malicious sneer. “I get to mess with your spices.”

“Nooooo~!”

The door slammed shut behind her and she could just hear the click of nonexistent locks. He was gonna ruin her system!

“Beni-chan, happy birthday.”

She turned around to look at Han, the newest addition to the growing jinchuriki clan. He was nice, but he was a little serious for her tastes. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, given the kind of life jinchuriki were often forced to live. So, she went out of her way to try and make his life a little more fun. She wasn’t sure she was succeeding, but he hadn’t complained, yet. He might, soon, once he found his confidence, but, until then, she would just try to make him happy. He was smiling a little awkwardly at her and she returned it with a wide smile of her own.

“Thanks a bunch, Han-chan!” She reached out to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and letting the taller boy carry her weight. “Roshi is messing up my kitchen~!”

“Damn right!”

She raised her eyebrows as the older jinchuriki yelled out from inside. Han didn’t have eyebrows, but he got his confusion across perfectly clear.

“You want to work on your birthday?”

No. Of course, not. It was really nice of Roshi to take over her position in the kitchen. She appreciated the thought behind it. But. _BUT._ The thought of him messing up her organization was giving her hives. All those jars looked exactly alike. If he moved them, she wouldn’t know until she put sugar in the food instead of salt!

She couldn’t just reject his attempt to be kind, though. Tch, so unlucky.

_Fun? Fun things happening?_

Mushi had landed on her back while she was languishing against Han. She pulled back and stood on her own two feet as the beetle crawled over to his customary place on her shoulder.

“Yep. It’s my birthday. Fun is mandatory.”

_Fun! Fun things!_

She laughed at Mushi as he hissed with excitement. She still remembered what he considered fun and, while a jump from the cliff probably wouldn’t kill her, now, she wasn’t sure it constituted typical birthday shenanigans.

“Is he talking?”

She looked up at Han, a smile on her face. He didn’t think she was weird for talking to bugs. It was a small, needless, concern of hers when he first arrived, but he dismissed it quickly. If anything, he was curious and asked a lot of questions she was happy to answer. Well, Choumei was happy to answer through her.

She wanted to ask if Kokuo was making it easier for him to get along with the wild horses that came to the courtyard to drink from the turtle pond. She didn’t, though. Sakumo was still around, after all, and, while he never left the temple like they did, she couldn’t be sure what kinds of evil little spy jutsus he was using. She couldn’t even be sure Han knew she was a jinchuriki, too.

Well, he would, soon.

“Are the two of you off to wreak havoc?”

Both children turned to look at Sakumo as he approached them, one hand in a pocket. Han’s expression immediately closed off. Well, it was to be expected. Sakumo was wearing a Konoha headband and only twoish weeks ago Han was fighting a war against people wearing that swirly symbol.

“Yep,” she said cheerfully, gladly taking the spotlight. “What about you, old man? Gonna stick around and do old man things, like always?”

His expression didn’t sour like it usually did when she used that nickname and she knew there was something different going on. He noticed her noticing and sighed with a smile. He sank to one knee, the hand in the pocket coming out. In a weird, inexplicable flight of fancy, Beni actually thought he might be proposing to her.

He reached out and took her hand, placing what he was holding into her palm.

“It’s not much,” he said with a crooked smile. “But it’s all I had to give. I hope it’s to your liking.”

He pulled his hands back, revealing a cute little wooden ladybug, spots burned into its shell. There was a metal hoop twisted into its neck—it looked a little painful, actually—and a string run through it. It was an adorable charm! Maybe she could put it on her necklace!

She looked up at Sakumo, her face hurting with the force of her joy!

“Thanks so much! I love it!”

A tension left his shoulders and she took the chance to throw herself at him, eliciting a surprised chuckle from her sudden display of affection.

“I’m glad you like it.”


	21. I Walk Through the Valley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no humans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TADAH! I updated at a decentish time! I'm gonna be travelling all day tomorrow, so I'm gonna write another chapter tonight and post it tomorrow morning before I set out. :)

Kokuo pawed at the barren earth beneath her hooves. In her time as a weapon of war, she’d seen the mindscapes of three different humans. This one was the worst, she thought, and she couldn’t help but long for her home range in the Land of Grass. Maybe, if she’d been sealed inside someone from the plains, the confines of her seal wouldn’t be so desolate.

Her latest prison was a young child, and, yet, his mind was a drought cracked canyon, a pathetic excuse of a river running through bland grey stone. The sky was frozen in perpetual twilight, neither, nor moon, nor stars to light the way. It was a reflection of his sense of self and she used to it to convince herself he wasn’t the sort she wanted to meet, regardless of how lonely she was. It had been a long time since one of her siblings called for her, though she had the feeling one or more were nearby. She hadn’t noticed how reliant she was on Son Goku’s faint presence until he disappeared from her range. It wasn’t the first time he’d done so, but he didn’t come back this time. For so long, she wallowed in the unending darkness of her prison’s mind, kicking herself for not reaching out to him, herself. Though they were often in range of each other, they learned early on that communicating across seals was the swiftest path to having their seals examined and maybe even changed.

She walked through the canyon, her hooves kicking up dust as she approached the river. Her prison was back in range of Son Goku’s, so she could once again sense her younger brother. And one of the elder three. When was the last time Choumei was in range of her? Why was his prison together with hers and Son’s? Were the humans at war again?

There was no point in asking such questions, she knew. No one was going to answer them. Her seal served as a solid wall between her and the world outside it. If she wanted to know anything, she would need to reach across the seals to one of her siblings, but the knowledge wasn’t worth inviting human scrutiny.

She shook her head and sighed. This was a far cry from the herd life she’d lived on the plains.

A rogue wind had dust billowing in the air and she closed her eyes against it. What was this? Was her prison going through some kind of turmoil? Was the barren canyon going to become a dustbowl? Was it puberty?

**KOKUO!**

What?

She lifted her head, squinting as she tried to look into the heart of the windstorm. She could have sworn…

 **Kokuo!** Yes, it _was_ Choumei. The giant insect was flying right for her, three sets of wings kicking up so much dust she could barely make out his silhouette. **I’m coming!**

Oh, dear.

She stumbled back in a last minute attempt to avoid her brother as he barreled right for her. All those wings couldn’t stop him in time and he collided with her, sending them both tumbling into the trickling creek. Kokuo’s hooves kicked out at the open air as she lay on her back, her brother quickly scrambling off of her so she could roll over. His wings were now damp, so he wouldn’t be flying anywhere, soon.

** Choumei? Why are you here? **

**To see my baby sister, of course!** The insect pulled himself up to his full height, balancing on his central tail as his red orange wings fanned out to dry. He was a magnificent sight. The last time she saw him, he was little more than a grub. Insects underwent more extreme changes over the course of their lives than any other creature, so that made sense, in a way. Still, it was hard to wrap her head around her memories of her brother and the fully grown beast before her. When he’d spoken with her to share strange, cryptic information, it had been with his voice only, since he was ‘occupied with other matters’. Her eyes narrowed as she noticed something moving on his left shoulder, a flash of red crawling on the armored chitin.

“Hello Kokuo-san,” the thing said, waving at her from its perch. “Thanks for giving this guy a bath!”

It was a human, she realized with a start. Likely the one her brother was stuck inside. Before she could question the giant insect about the parasite crawling around on him and how it knew her name, something else demanded her attention.

 ** _Kokuo,_** Son Goku’s voice echoed through the canyon. **_It’s been too long._**

She turned to see her younger brother coming up the river, his tails held high behind him. Something was trailing beside him, a small speck at the head of a cloud of dust. Son Goku was walking at a sedate pace, but the human had to run at full speed to keep up. She was delighted to see her siblings, of course, but the question remained: why did they bring their humans with them?

“Kokuo-san!” She turned to look at the red parasite clinging to Choumei. “Don’t tell Roshi Son-sensei’s name! He has to earn it!”

Oh? She could to that.

 **Welcome, little brother,** she called out to Son Goku, happy to have a legitimate reason to back up her teasing. **It has, indeed, been far longer than I would have liked. I am glad to see you both, though I must ask why you have brought these…tagalongs with you.**

Choumei chittered, his many arms moving with excitement. **Do you remember when I spoke to you? This is Beni! My human!**

The human in question waved eagerly at her. Kokuo took a tentative step closer. Ah. It was a child. Bright and happy, just like Choumei, she was smiling ear to ear.

 **Kokuo, Kokuo!** Choumei wiggled all his many arms. **Bring your human! Bring him!**

She snorted in derision. **Why would I do that?**

**Kokuo~!**

Son Goku’s human let out a laugh, yelling to be heard from his place on the ground. “By the Sage, you two are exactly alike!”

“Look who’s talking,” Choumei’s human returned, pointing two fingers at him and Son. “Grumpy face duo!”

Both Son Goku and his human scowled in tandem.

 ** _Kokuo,_** Son Goku said with a sigh. **_Bring the boy. He has been removed from the village which forced you inside of him, so neither of you will be punished for this._**

Oh, is that so?

It made little difference to her, really, but it did lessen her resistance to know that the child wouldn’t be killed for her actions.

 **Why?** She asked again. **Why are you two here? Why should I bring the child here, as well? I do not understand what you are hoping to accomplish.**

**_Kokuo, please—._**

“So we can be friends!”

She turned to look at Choumei’s little passenger again. The child was jumping up and down, bursting with energy.

** Friends? **

“Yeppers! BFFs! He’s stuck with you for the rest of his life, right? He may as well be your friend! And he’s nice! And _suuu~per_ lonely! You’ll outlive him, anyway, so what’s the big deal about being his friend?”

Well…she wasn’t wrong. Still, Kokuo was apprehensive.

“You should at least meet him!”

Fine.

Kokuo reached out with her chakra, filtering through the seal and into her prison’s mind. She yanked on him, pulling him down into his barren mindscape. He popped into existence on the bank of the river and Kokuo could feel his anxiety and fear.

“Han-chan!” Choumei’s human leapt from his shoulder, landing beside Kokuo’s with a bright smile. Son Goku’s, too, joined the children.

This was the first time Kokuo had ever seen her current prison. She stepped forward, extending her neck down toward the group of humans. They were all rather small, but hers was the tallest. This was despite his youth. He was a long-legged colt, all elbows and knees and clumsy height. How young was he? She was a little fuzzy on the growth rate of humans. Was he a baby? A juvenile? Did humans undergo metamorphoses, like Choumei?

Her brothers’ humans stood aside as her face got closer to them, allowing her to sniff at her keeper.

He stood stock still, ramrod straight as his fear ran through them both. Her tails swished with agitation, flicking her sides as she took a closer look at him.

 **I am Kokuo,** she told him, letting him feel the full force of her voice. **Who are you, bearer of my seal?**

He was frozen in fear, but he managed to stutter something out.

“My n-name is H-Han.”

Han. A simple name, but a good one.

 **Han,** she continued. **What do you know of me?**

Fear flared through him again.

“Nothing,” he admitted quietly. “Just that you’re inside me.”

Hm. About as much as she knew of him, then.

** How old are you, Han? **

“E-eight,” he answered.

** And what does that mean? Are you a child? A juvenile? **

Choumei’s human answered for him, raising her hand to catch Kokuo’s attention. “We’re kids! Humans reach full physical maturity at twenty five, but we can breed and stuff before that!”

“Why do you know about breeding?” Son Goku’s human demanded angrily. “You’re too young to be thinking about that!”

She sniffed at his upset, crossing her arms and pointing her nose in the air. “I’m the product of breeding, you know. Not everyone can hatch from a boulder, fully formed.”

Han stood between his shorter compatriots, a living buffer between them as they bickered.

So, he wasn’t just a child, but a very young child. Some of Kokuo’s resentment towards him faded.

** How old were you when you received my seal, Han? **

“Um, I w-was six.” He was gaining confidence.

“Me too!” Choumei’s human exclaimed, wrapping her arms around Han’s shoulders with a happy squeal. “Yay! Seal buddies!”

Hmm. Son Goku’s human was correct. There was a great deal of overlap between the girl child and the giant beetle. It made her wonder if there was anything shared between her and Han.

Likely not, given how little they’d interacted.

Kokuo pulled he head back from the humans, leaving them on the bank of the river—which looked much bigger with them beside it—as she turned back to her brothers. Son Goku wore an insufferably smug expression and she flicked him with one of her tails. Choumei didn’t have a face, but his wings were vibrating with anticipation.

 **Well?** He asked, voice lilting the same way his human’s did. **What do you think? He’s nice, right?**

** Hmm, I suppose.  **

**_You always suppose,_** Son Goku grumbled. **_Just say yes or no._**

** Yes or no. **

**_You!_ **

* * *

“What do you think? She seems nice, right?”

Han hummed in response to Benihime’s chipper question. “I suppose.”

“It’s a yes or no question, kid,” Roshi scolded good naturedly. “Just pick one.”

He wasn’t sure if he could. He was still reeling from the revelation that Benihime was also a jinchuriki. It made sense, now that he thought about it. Why else would she be so kind to him and Roshi? No normal human would ever willingly associate with a jinchuriki.

Although, now that the Konoha shinobi was gone, there weren’t any normal humans to worry about. That was probably why she and Roshi had finally revealed her identity as the Nanabi’s container. Han had a hard time understanding how she could be so happy despite her status, but, after she explained that her beast had taken her from her village the instant the seal was placed, he had a better idea of how it was possible. She’d never been a jinchuriki around people. Plus, it was becoming clear from watching the bijuu interacting that the Nanabi was a rather happy creature.

“It’s ok,” she said, patting his shoulder. “You don’t have to make up your mind, yet. You only met her today!”

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Do all bijuu live here?”

Benihime shook her head with a laugh. “Nope! This is inside your seal! I’m pretty sure it’s a reflection of your mind.”

Oh. That was…interesting. So, the nighttime canyon was his mind?

“Mine is a H—an academy! Choumei sits on the…training field!”

Huh.

Both children turned to Roshi, questions in their eyes.

He crossed his arms with a scowl, but he answered all the same. “Mine’s a cave behind a waterfall.”

Benihime laughed raucously. “As expected of the Monkey King.” She slapped her hands over her mouth, looking at Roshi with wide, fearful green eyes.

A grin began to spread across Roshi’s face, his beard obscuring the expression but not the malice behind it. He turned around and bellowed at the three bijuu.

“Hey! You old ape! I have a name for you!”

Benihime began chanting apologies, her words muffled by the hands still covering her mouth. Han was confused. Did Roshi not know the Yonbi’s name? If not, then how did Benihime know it?

The Yonbi turned his terrifying face toward them, massive teeth gleaming. **_Oh? Let’s hear it, then._**

“Hanuman!”

Benihime almost fell over and Han thought he might join her when the Yonbi started laughing.

“That’s not it!” Benihime said with a laugh of her own. “I didn’t know you guys had a Hanuman! Is he your Monkey King?”

Roshi’s scowl was dark and Han jumped to answer her question before he could vent his anger on her.

“Yes. He’s a God in the Land of Earth. He has a couple of temples, but I’ve never been to one.”

Benihime nodded, but there was light in her green eyes that set Han on edge.

“So,” she drawled. “You’re telling me that there’s an entire religion dedicated to a monkey god, but zero connections have been made to the giant talking monkey over there? I see, I see.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

She sighed, patting Han’s shoulder in a way that had him feeling somewhat insulted. “The temple we live in was built for Choumei. There’s a Clan of bug people who worship a god with that name, but they’ve forgotten he belongs to it. It’s actually pretty sad when you think about it.” She laughed mirthlessly. “God of Shinobi my ass. He’s only a god because he sealed all the other ones away.”

Han wasn’t sure what she was talking about, but he knew better than the speak when both she and Roshi were scowling.

Was there a monkey Clan in Iwa? Not that he could remember. A horse one, either, though…Kokuo didn’t exactly look like a horse. He was afraid to ask, though, lest he be stomped to death beneath her hooves.

“Hey, sensei!” Benihime called out to the bijuu. “Have you ever been called Hanuman?”

The Yonbi scratched under his chin just like Roshi sometimes scratched his beard. **_Not that I can remember._**

Wait, she was calling the Yonbi sensei?

Han was about to ask about it, but Kokuo spoke, her tails swishing back and forth in a visual cue to her agitation.

** That is enough. Having all of you here cannot be healthy for Han. You can continue your conversations out there. **

As Han was kicked out of the seal, he noticed the sun rising over the lip of the canyon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some information on [Hanuman](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hanuman) I picked him because he is sometimes considered a precursor to the legends of Sun Wu Kong (Son Goku). :)


	22. Over the Hills and Far Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Over the hills and far away,  
> he swears he will return one day.  
> As sure as the river reach the seas,  
> back in his arms is where she'll be.  
> Over the hills and far away,  
> she prays he will return one day.  
> As sure as the rivers reach the sea,  
> back in her arms is where he'll be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not as long or as well written as I would have liked, but I'm gonna be on the road for twelve hours, so it's what you get. :)

Sakumo dodged another lightning jutsu, his white chakra sabre raised to defend his face from the fist coming toward it. He and his opponents danced apart, coming to stand on opposite ends of the clearing. The Raikage’s two sons glared at him, the younger men readying themselves for another attack. There was no telling if or when reinforcements would arrive, as they’d left the heated center of combat for the sake of avoiding unnecessary collateral damage. It was a common practice for particularly strong shinobi, but it also left them vulnerable without back up if they needed it.

Not that Sakumo needed it.

The Kumo boys, A and B, rushed him again, and he met them head on. His blade hummed with chakra, cutting through A’s kunai. The much taller shinobi bared his teeth at him, revealing crooked eyeteeth. Sakumo was suddenly reminded of someone else with teeth like that and he barely managed to dodge the shuriken thrown by B. The Kumo TagTeam well deserved its legendary reputation and Sakumo was certainly more careful about how he fought knowing that these were the Raikage’s own children. They were trying to kill him, but if he killed either of them, there would be consequences he wasn’t sure he or his village were ready to face. Kumo and Konoha had been enemies since their conceptions, so going to war was hardly new. However, after the war ended, there would be a period of peace and a pretense at reconciliation. That would be impossible if either Kage’s children were killed.

The teenagers attacking him clearly knew that, since they were attacking someone with his reputation. He knew what Kumo’s Bingo Books said about him.

“Yo, bro,” B began, speaking with rhythm. “I think it’s time to go.”

A didn’t take his eyes off Sakumo. “What do you mean?”

Before B could answer, an explosion went off, filling the air with colored smoke. Ah, that was a sleeping gas. He could already smell it in the air. Someone must have laid a trap. He and the Raikage’s boys just happened to be downwind. 

“Shit!” A scowled, finally looking away from Sakumo and raising his hand to cover his face. “What is that?”

“It’s sleeping gas,” Sakumo supplied instinctively, well trained after so long spent teaching an inquisitive child. Only after the words left his mouth did he realize what he’d said. Ah. Oops.

The boys looked at him, confused, and he sighed internally. Months later, Benihime’s influence was still evident. How was she, he wondered. Was she doing well with Roshi and Han?

Another explosion went off, closer this time and in the opposite direction. If he didn’t know better, he’d think someone was setting them off on purpose.

Sakumo pulled a filtration mask from his kunai pouch, pressing it to his face. The boys apparently didn’t have anything similar. They were speaking lowly, eyes still on him. He could hear them just fine, his heightened senses once again coming to his aid.

“Bro, you should go. I’ll give you some cover, this guy seems the type to hover.”

“I can’t do that. We go together or not at all.”

“I don’t need a mask, my body can’t be gassed. You need to finish the mission with which we have been tasked.”

Ah, now that was interesting. B was immune to Konoha’s sleeping agents? Good to know.

“I don’t care about that,” A continued. “I’m not leaving my little brother out here without me.”

Ah, that was a little sweet. It made him feel a bit guilty about planning how to take down A while avoiding B. He couldn’t kill the Raikage’s children, but he could injure them. The TagTeam never split up, so if he could hurt one enough to keep them off the battlefield, then the other wouldn’t appear, either.

He didn’t feel guilty enough not to act, though.

He propelled himself forward, chakra burning in his legs and humming in his blade as he hurtled toward the brothers.

B immediately moved to defend his brother, thwarting Sakumo’s attack and stripping him of the element of surprise. Both boys turned to face him again and Sakumo cursed himself for waiting so long. A was clearly flagging, the gas in the air finally getting to work. B covered him well. Sakumo couldn’t see his eyes behind those sunglasses of his, but he was sure he was probably scanning the area for any means of escape. A far cry from the deadly duo that cornered him not ten minutes ago. How swiftly the tides of battle change.

Sakumo dove toward them, his blade sparking with bright light. The boys had no weapons that could stop the White Chakra Sabre, so he was confident he could injure A and get out before B could counter. To his surprise, his blade was caught on a kunai, the weapon in B’s hand wreathed in red chakra.

How interesting.

Sakumo engaged the younger man in a whirl of blades. Kenjutsu—the art of the sword—was not something Kumo was known for, unlike Kiri and, to a lesser degree, Kusa. Still, B put up a good fight, blocking Sakumo’s Sabre at every turn.

“You’re good, kid,” he told his opponent. “Your footwork could use some improvement, but—.” He disarmed the boy and pressed forward, placing the edge of his blade against his collarbone in threat. “All in all, not too bad. I’m impressed.”

The red chakra that had fended off his weapon began to leak from B’s entire body, coating the teen from head to toe. Sakumo leapt back, unsure of how to proceed.

“Good to know,” the tall boy said. “Still can’t let you have my bro, though.”

Sakumo let himself smile. “Understandable. Unfortunately, I can’t let you go without at least trying.”

The red bathed shinobi smiled grimly, the expression more a baring of straight white teeth. Then, he launched himself at Sakumo, suddenly much faster than before.

He just barely managed to dodge B’s kunai, then he immediately had to roll away from A’s fist. He really did take his duties as an older brother seriously. The more he moved, the faster the gas would move through his system and render him unconscious. Still, he was a very large boy. It would probably take longer to affect him, anyway.

A and B were definitely close quarters fighters, preferring to use their fists than their weapons. As A once again came at him with his fist, Sakumo got a close look at his face.

Wait.

He pulled back, missing a perfectly good opportunity to stab the boy in the ribs.

“A question,” he called out to them both as they took advantage of his unexpected action to regroup. “You two wouldn’t happen to have a sister, would you?”

It was a stupid question. He knew that even as he was asking it. Still, he had to ask. There was something in the shape of A’s mouth, the shape of his teeth, and the way his brows furrowed that brought back powerful memories.

“What are you doing, fool?” B demanded. “Asking about family; so not cool!”

He was right, of course. It was an unspoken rule of the battlefield—never ask about family. Resentment was easy to build during wartimes, and it made reconciliation difficult. Better to nip it in the bud and hold grudges against only those who fought and not their kin. Still, it was a little difficult to guarantee, since the same names and features popped up so often as the same nations waged war against each other generation after generation. These two boys were likely descended of the Gold and Silver Brothers who killed the Second Hokage.

He laughed a little at himself. “Yeah, I know, I was just thinking of a little girl all lone in the world with no family of her own. She looks a little like you, so I got a bit nostalgic.”

Should he be telling them about her? No. Absolutely not. Still, his words were true. She did look a bit like A, though there were more differences than similarities. They might be distantly related. In which case, he would gladly give her up, since she deserved to have someone who would care for her and teach her the ways of her people. There was no denying the ties between her and Kumo, but…

He shook his head. “Forget it, she’s from Taki. It’s probably a coincidence.”

A was flagging. In another moment or two, he would collapse.

Ah, he was getting too soft in his old age.

“Go on,” he told them, scanning the area with his heightened hearing for anyone who might give him trouble for what he was about to do. “Get out of here. Boys like you should be at home, not fighting old men like me.”

They hesitated, clearly expecting some kind of trap. B waited a moment before slinging his older brother’s arm over his shoulders and disappearing into the trees.

Sakumo sighed and sheathed his blade. The sleeping gas in the air all but guaranteed him a moment to rest. Kumo shinobi rarely wore respirators or filtered masks, so they would likely clear the area. He let himself lean against a tree.

What month was it? He’d left the temple in early June, reported back to the Hokage within a week, and had been punished for his failure with another deployment immediately after. He hadn’t even had time to explain to Kakashi where he was going or for how long. He caught a glimpse of his son before he left, though. He looked alright. Stoic under the mask he wore. Sakumo remembered when he wore one, too. Hatake noses were sensitive and it took years of training before they could unmask themselves, the scents of the world too much for little noses.

One day, he would guide Kakashi through that process. One day, when he was older and the war was over and Sakumo wasn’t always on the furthest border from home.

If he’d just taken Benihime, he’d be at home right now.

He dismissed that thought the instant it spawned in his mind. He meant what he said to the Kumo boys. She was all alone with nobody to call her own. Even Roshi was only her friend—as much as an adult could be friends with a child—because the temple made his desertion possible.

He shook his head to clear it. He didn’t have the luxury to dwell on the temple and its inhabitants, anymore. He was fighting Kumo, not Iwa. The temple was no longer his concern.

Still, he _was_ concerned. Very concerned.

How was the little princess?


	23. Hot Girl Bummer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fuck you, and you, and you  
> I hate your friends and they hate me too  
> I'm through, I'm through, I'm through  
> This that hot girl bummer anthem  
> Turn it up and throw a tantrum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With this chapter, I have officially hit the 50k goal for NaNoWriMo! YAY!!! Thanks for coming this far with me! I'm gonna keep updating every day, but I hope you will understand if I take this Thursday off for Thanksgiving. :)

“You know, I’m starting to think you made it up. Think about it. This forest is weird and creepy, you were concussed—it makes perfect sense for you to hallucinate, don’t you think? This is, like, prime hallucination real estate. I’m pretty sure we’ve passed that same tree a million times, but I’ve made sure to mark it the last couple of passes, and every time we reach it again the mark is gone. It’s incredible, really. Not even fiction can compare to the reality I’m witnessing, here, and I write it!”

Jiraiya continued to chatter, his thoughts flowing straight out his mouth as he gaged the reactions of his Uchiha guide. It was a little odd, having the recently ascended Clan Head lead him through the forest like a glorified tour guide, but he wasn’t complaining. The Uchiha as a whole were all rather stuffy, so it was always fun to push their buttons, especially one as tight laced as Fugaku. Plus, he wasn’t lying about the forest being creepy. The air was too still, too quiet, too _heavy_. He could feel it settling on his shoulders, an unwelcome burden that only increased with every step he took beneath the canopy.

No wonder Iwa had abandoned this place. Still, it begged the question of why they’d defended so fiercely for as long as they did. Clearly, Konoha had gained nothing by acquiring the accursed forest. The only signs of people he’d seen thus far were the ones left by Konoha. If the forest had a native people, they were very good at covering their tracks.

Of course, that was why sensei had sent him out to this desolate corner of the world. He was a people person, after all, and having such a glaring blind spot in his spy network was a real no-go. Even if this forest was handed right back to the Land of Earth after the end of the war, it was only a matter of time until the next one. He needed to establish a foothold while he still had access to it.

“It really is amazing,” he said again, this time more to himself than to Fugaku, his ever silent guide trudging on ahead like just walking through the forest would establish his dominance over it. “To think, Sakumo actually failed a mission. It really makes you wonder what kind of person the little princess is, to resist such a charming character.”

 _That_ got Fugaku’s hackles up. His whole body stiffened at the mention of the little girl at the heart of nearly every report involving the infamous temple. Jiraiya had read through them all, spending extra time on Sakumo’s since it had the most information on her character. It was the closest he’d likely ever get to knowing her, himself, since the temple was most unlikely to appear before either him or Fugaku. ‘Impure motives’ was practically his motto. It was a shame, though. From what he’d read, the girl sounded like a real cutie. Maybe he’d come back in a few years and see if she showed herself.

Once again, that same tree came into view, but with a marked difference. Nestled in the base of the tree was a shrine, black lacquered tablets standing erect with lit sticks of incense and a plate of what looked and smelled like braised pork belly. Jiraiya ran over to it, delighted at the first break in monotony since he first set foot in the forest. As he read the words painted on the tablets in still wet gold paint, he snorted loudly.

**Here Lies**

**Uchiha Fugaku’s Pride**

**May The Wheel Turn On It Again**

Those words, while hilarious, were also very revealing. He’d never seen a memorial tablet written like that before. In the Land of Fire, the person’s name was usually all that was written. The well wishes written here might be a local custom—if a local people even existed—but there was more important information to be gleaned.

Someone was following them.

Jiraiya wasn’t a sensor, by any means, but even he could feel the chakra in the air. Every breath he took was thick with it, almost cloying in his lungs. For the young Head of the Uchiha Clan, it must be even worse. The memorial plaque had a double meaning then, referencing both his past failures and his current inability to sense what could only be little Benihime herself picking a fight with him.

Indeed, the younger man was vibrating with suppressed rage. If Jiraiya poked him, he’d probably burst into flames.

Well, might as well pay his respects. Why waste such a perfectly good set up?

He got on his knees before the shrine, clapping his hands and bowing his head in mock prayer. He could feel the waves of anger rolling off his companion, but he was also rewarded with the sound of childish laughter echoing through the trees. The sound was clearly muddled by a genjutsu of some kind, as he couldn’t pinpoint its origin, and he was clearly meant to hear it, or the forest would have remained as artificially silent as before. He was playing right into her hands, but that was fine. Having Fugaku on hand was pretty lucky, too. He could use him as a foil, setting himself up as the preferable option between them. By going along with her childish prank, he also established himself as a fun guy she might want to play with again, someday. Not his usual tactic when setting up a means of future contact, but he had a feeling his normal route wouldn’t win him any points with the literal child laughing in the canopy.

“This is very well done,” he said as he got to his feet after adding a couple of food pills to the offering tray. “How fast do you think she did this?”

Fugaku said nothing, but he did growl rather menacingly. Scary.

“This does prove me right, though. We _have_ been going in circles! How else would she have known we’d pass by here?” He shook his finger at the slowly imploding Fugaku. “I thought you knew where you were going.”

Oh, the Uchiha was seething. Ha!

This was fun. He should collude with children more often.

“I wonder,” he said, pitching his voice loudly so his hidden coconspirator could hear more clearly. “If we keep walking, will there be another surprise in store for us? This trip is suddenly so much fun. Let’s go!”

He took the lead then, dragging the frothing Uchiha behind him. As much fun as he was actually having, indulging the little girl could not be his main purpose. He needed to actually meet her, speak with her, if he could. This was an opportunity he didn’t think he’d ever get and he couldn’t afford to waste it. If anyone was going to know about the locals in this place, it was one of the three confirmed people living there.

Granted, he wasn’t sure he wanted to meet the other ones. A jinchuriki? No, thank you.

Once again, the tree came into view. The black wooden memorial plaques were still there, but when he kneeled before them, this time, there were new words painted on in dripping gold paint.

**Here Lies**

**Uchiha Fugaku’s Patience**

**May Its Strength Never Wane**

Pfft.

He and the poor beleaguered Fugaku couldn’t have taken more than five minutes to traverse the loop, so she had to be somewhere close, lying in wait. He didn’t dare hope he could get the jump on her. The genjutsus at work in this forest were beyond even the Uchiha. The reports made it clear there was a seal or two at work, as well, but without immediate access, he wouldn’t be able to discern a counter seal. They—Jiraiya, Fugaku, every Konoha shinobi in the forest—were stuck.

It didn’t help that the girl had a strong, well documented grudge against Konoha. Even if they said pretty please, the odds of getting any help were incredibly low. Maybe, if he made a big enough fool of himself, she would be inclined to help _him_ if not _them_.

He got up and began walking the circuit again, tugging Fugaku along behind him. With every go round, the trees closed in on them, the sunlight dimming as the canopy became tighter, the ground beneath their feet becoming uneven as more and more roots twisted over each other. If this continued for much longer, they’d have no choice but to turn back.

Again, the tree appeared. Again, there was a shrine. He kneeled before it eagerly.

**Here Lies**

**Jiraiya’s Youth**

**May The Venerable Elder Take A Breather**

Fugaku’s anger dissipated with a poorly concealed laugh and Jiraiya spent longer than was probably wise staring at the fresh paint.

How…how had she learned his name?

Laughter echoed in the air, again, and it was a lot less cute now that it was aimed at him.

“You know what,” he said, forcing himself to shrug it off. “I’ll give it to you. You apparently pull the same trick on Sakumo, so it’s cool. I’ll forgive you. I do have a question, though. Is there a reason you don’t want us to go past this tree? Is it special? Are we breaking some incredibly obscure taboo we could never have known about without you telling us?”

He wasn’t actually expecting an answer. Fugaku sighed into his hand, lamenting the fate that had him stuck out in the woods with a man so much better looking than he was. Naturally, they were both very surprised when the voice actually spoke instead of just laughing at them.

“Well, Iwa’s demolition squad left a minefield in the clearing not two yards past it, so…”

Oh. Really?

“Aww, you’re protecting us? That’s so sweet of you!”

“Ridiculous,” Fugaku grumbled under his breath. “We’ve been here for weeks and we haven’t found any minefields.”

“You’re welcome,” the girl said blandly, earning another surprised laugh from Jiraiya.

She was actually talking to them! What an unexpected surprise! He needed to do something to put himself in her good graces. There was no saving Fugaku, but _he_ , at least, had some redeeming qualities.

“So, you’re saying you’ve been trapping our shinobi in genjutsus to save them from the minefields?”

“Not trapping,” she replied with a huff. “If you go back the way you came you should end up back at your camp.”

Fugaku didn’t like that. “You know where the camp is?”

“Of course,” she sniffed. “It’s my forest. I know where everything is.”

We~ll. That was handy. If only there was some way to get that knowledge out of her head an onto a map.

“You know, Hime-chan, I can’t help but wonder how you knew my name.” He gestured at the memorial tablets. “I don’t remember introducing myself to you. How’s about we get formally acquainted.”

The air was filled with the sound of dramatic retching. “Ewwww~! Fuck off you grody old man! My spies are better than yours!”

Well. The kid deserved a prize. She made Fugaku laugh.

She also threw down a gauntlet she couldn’t take back.


	24. Hot n' Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Cause you're hot then you're cold  
> You're yes then you're no  
> You're in then you're out  
> You're up then you're down

Han followed behind Benihime as she led the way through the forest. It still all looked the same to him, the moss on every tree blurring them all together into a dizzying blanket of vibrant green. Benihime never got lost, though. Every step she took she took with a purpose, sure of both her origin and destination. He wasn’t sure if it was because she actually knew where she was going or if it was due to the literal army of insects buzzing in the air around her, reporting on the whereabouts of the Konoha camps like they were shinobi and she their Kage.

“Come on, Han-chan,” she said with a dazzling smile. “We’re gonna have fun!”

That was another thing. The longer the Konoha shinobi remained in the forest, the more comfortable Benihime was with… _disciplining_ them. Han would rather not engage with them, at all, really, but she was so adamant in _exacting her revenge_ and he couldn’t just let her go alone.

Well, he could, but Roshi would yell at him.

“Look, look, look!” She pulled him close to her, pointing down at the group of Konoha scouts as they passed beneath the branch she and Han were perched on. “It’s happening.”

Han watched as the group crossed some invisible threshold, going about sixty paces before turning back. Once they came to stand beneath the two jinchuriki children, they once again turned on their heels, going the full sixty paces before, again, turning back. This continued, the shinobi pacing back and forth, becoming visibly more agitated with every pass. Benihime giggled as she watched them, somehow entertained by their anger.

“Isn’t this fun?”

He hummed, letting her choose the answer which suited her best. She was going to drag him around with her no matter what, so he may as well resign himself—.

Benihime’s pupiless green eyes were suddenly only inches from his own, her rich dark skin and golden hair filling his field of vision. He leaned back, only the chakra in his feet keeping him from falling off the branch they shared.

“You know, Han-chan,” she said, uncharacteristically serious. “You don’t have to say yes to everything, but, for the love of God, learn to say no. So what if you don’t like it? We’ll just find something else to do. We’re friends. Equals. It’s not friendship if only one of us is having fun. Ok?”

Han blinked in the face of her fervor, surprised and confused by her sudden lecture. He must have taken too long to answer, because she took his face between her hands, squishing it.

“Ok?”

He nodded and her serious expression dissolved into a bright smile, her nose scrunching with the force of it. She let him go and leaned back on her hands, seemingly content to ignore the people whose suffering had so entertained her.

“Awesome! So, what do you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “Whatever you want is fine.”

The look she gave him was equal parts anger and exasperation. “ _I_ ,” she drawled, long and slow as she pointed one slender finger at the Konoha shinobi below them. “Want to watch these losers make fools of themselves. Something _you_ ,” she swung her hand up to point at him, the crescent of her nail settling right between his eyes. “Obviously don’t like. We need to find something else.”

She was right, of course. She often was. It was why Han took little issue following her lead. Every once and while, she did something he couldn’t quite wrap his head around, but that was fine. She was kind enough to try and include him, he couldn’t just rebuff her generosity.

She sighed, once again correctly interpreting his silence as indecision. “How about this: would you rather go back to the temple? Yes or no?”

He didn’t really mind either way. The temple was nice and familiar, but he was glad to be outside, though he couldn’t really navigate on his own.

Sudden pain in his forehead had him hissing and he stared at Benihime in disbelief as she held her hand up menacingly, fingers poised to flick him again.

“Yes or no!”

“No!”

She nodded. “Ok, so we’re staying out here. Now, would you rather we avoided the Konoha guys? I know you don’t like them, but I figured that might mean you’d enjoy picking on them with me. I should have asked first, I’m sorry.”

He opened his mouth to protest but she covered his lips with a hand. Her short eyebrows were furrowed in a mock frown, the corners of her mouth twitching as she fought a smile.

“The only words I want to hear you say are ‘yes’ or ‘no’.”

Right. She pulled her hand away, one brow raised as she waited for his answer.

He would rather not engage with Konoha if he could help it. He wasn’t as strong as Roshi and he didn’t have an army of spies like Benihime. He was just Han. If they caught him, there wasn’t much he could do to stop them from ripping Kokuo out of him. That was what the Tsuchikage said the other villages would do with him if they got their hands on him.

“Yes.”

She nodded, accepting his answer. “Okie Dokie. We’ll go somewhere else. How about—.” She cut herself off, focusing on something behind him. “Oh, no, he didn’t!”

She leapt over his head, launching herself at whatever had offended her. Han turned around in time to see her clap her hands over something on one of the trees. She crouched sideways on the trunk, her chakra holding her up as she held whatever it was in her hands. Han jumped over to join her and she held her hands out to him.

“Look! That slimeball filled my forest with vermin!”

Cupped in her palms was a bright red frog wearing a blue, sleeveless haori. It was glaring fiercely at its captor, anger clear in its amphibian eyes.

“How dare you!” It yelled, red body puffed up with indignation. “I am not vermin!”

“You’re an invasive species,” Benihime hissed, face twisted with more anger than Han had ever seen. “Completely nonnative. Tell me, little toad, what have you been eating while gathering information for that disgusting pervert you call a summoner?”

Oh. Oh no.

Han inched away, his fight or flight activating as rage emanated from his friend’s cruel smile.

“I know for a fact that Jiraiya knows which god my temple is dedicated to,” she continued, malice dripping off every word. “Sending insectivores to do his dirty work—is he asking me to kill you?” A look of sudden realization crossed her face. “Oh. _Oh_. He is, isn’t he? I hurt one of his precious little swamp babies and he has all the reason he needs to launch full scale campaign against me. I bet your Boss will even come out to avenge you, huh?” She chuckled darkly. “As if he’d be so lucky.”

The frog said nothing. Han wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, but he did know one thing. Frogs ate bugs. Choumei was a bug. Mushi, too. It was only natural that Benihime be upset about someone eating her friends.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” she told her captive. “You’re gonna go back to Mount Myoboku. You’re gonna tell the boss that your stupid human has finally gone senile and sent you into Choumei’s domain. For every beetle you little fucks eat, we will kill one of you. Eye for an eye. You guys like that kind of shit, right? You’ll see exactly how far I’m willing to take it! Now get!”

The red frog disappeared in a puff of white smoke.

“What was that?” Han asked. “I’ve never seen frogs around here, before.”

Benihime scoffed. “It’s a toad, and that’s because this forest doesn’t have any. Konoha’s sent their spy master to try and ferret me out. He’s no doubt trying to use his summons to circumnavigate the genjutsus littered throughout the forest, but not even the Boss Toad himself can escape the traps laid by the Sage of Six Paths. These little shits are trapped here and they’re eating my bugs!”

Her green eyes flashed gold and Han knew Choumei was simmering close to the surface, his outrage at his mortal counterparts’ deaths fueling his host’s. Benihime’s seal was weaker than either Han’s or Roshi’s, girl and beetle in constant mental contact. He couldn’t imagine living like that with Kokuo, but the Nanabi duo seemed to manage just fine.

Until something like this happened.

Han watched as his friend was wreathed in red bijuu chakra, two long tendrils reaching out from her back like wings. She closed her glowing eyes and exhaled. A pulse of tangible power radiated out from her, washing over Han like a jolt of energy. Inside his own seal, he could feel Kokuo stirring in response. Back at the temple, Roshi was probably feeling the same thing. On the ground beneath them, the Konoha shinobi—still walking in circles, heedless of the drama acting out above their heads—let out shouts of surprise, rushing back the way they came and slipping free of the genjutsu which contained them. 

Benihime took a moment to calm herself, taking deep breaths and patting her chest with a hand. When she opened her eyes, they were their natural green and Choumei’s chakra had receded.

“Ok. Ok, we’re ok. Han-chan,” she turned to him and he sat a little straighter where he knelt sideways on the tree. “I’m going to make a suggestion, and I want you to say either yes or no. Ok?”

He nodded, already somewhat anticipating where she was going with this.

“Alrighty. So, as of two seconds ago, over four hundred beetles have been eaten by foreign amphibians. I am going to avenge them. I said I would and I meant it. Now, I think hunting down every member of an invasive species before it can completely eradicate the local fauna sounds like amazing fun, but, as we established earlier, your idea of fun and mine are actually quite different. So, if you want, I can take you back to the temple.”

After _that_ display? Nu uh.

Benihime continued as he shook his head adamantly, a small smile on her face. “I can give you your own beetle buddy and we can have ourselves a little competition to see who can avenge the most beetles by the time the sun goes down. Does that sound like fun?”

“Hell, yeah.”


	25. Hey, You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [You're Finally Awake](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_WZCvQ5J3pk)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm ripping of the Elder Scrolls. I'm taking a million liberties with this story, lol

“Jiraiya-chan, I know you’re upset. We all are. But there’s nothing you can do. Choumei-sama is a powerful entity you don’t want to anger. We should all be grateful he hasn’t decided to take his vengeance any further than he already has.”

Shima’s words echoed hollowly in his skull, accented by the grinding of his own teeth. She and her husband, Fukasaku, had come to update him on exactly what was happening inside the forest, relaying the death count with low voices and heavy hearts.

“Choumei,” he said with an angry sigh. “That’s the god the Aburame worship. What does it have to do with anything?”

Fukasaku shook his head admonishingly. “Oh, Jiraiya-chan, you’re smarter than this. You’re letting your anger stand between you and the answer.”

“Pa,” his wife interjected. “Humans don’t live very long. It’s not surprising they’ve forgotten him. Choumei,” she continued, answering the unspoken questions ins Jiraiya’s black eyes. “Is the Lacquered Beetle, the God of Luck, himself. Hashirama-chan defiled his temple to steal the sacred treasure housed within and his entire line has been cursed ever since. Haven’t you ever wondered why Tsunade-chan always loses her bets, even when all the odds are in her favor? Why the Senju clan has dwindled to extinction, the missions they take always ending in failure? It’s because they offended one of the Nine.”

“The Nine?” That number was typically associated with bijuu, not gods.

Fukasaku nodded sagely. “The Nine Divines, creatures older than even Mount Myoboku. Legends say they predate the Sage himself, though there is little actual evidence to support this.”

“And this _Choumei_ is one of them?”

Both elderly toads nodded. “Indeed,” Shima said. “He is one of the strongest in the pantheon. All things related to chance fall under his domain. He is even said to command fate, rewriting the stars to answer the most fervent of prayers.”

Jiraiya pulled out his notebook, writing down the details he probably should have asked for before sending hundreds of toads to their deaths. No, not probably. Definitely.

“The Nine,” Fukasaku continued, drawing in the earth with a large toe. “Are organized in a loose hierarchy. Three above and six below.” His drawing consisted of lines drawn in that order and he circled the three sitting atop six. “Choumei is one of the Greater Three. The others are Kurama, God of Mischief, and Gyuuki, God of Contests.”

Luck, mischief, and contests? Those were odd things to venerate so highly. Jiraiya copied down the toad’s doodle in his notebook, adding an explanation in messy handwriting.

How had he never heard of any of this? He was a pro researcher! Digging up forgotten facts was his one skill, damn it!

“Humans are so short lived,” Shima lamented, as though in answer to his unvoiced frustrations. “The generational turn over is so quick. In only a hundred years, things everyone knew can be forgotten.”

“Or twisted,” Fukasaku said with another heavy sigh. “There were once shrines to Kurama maintained by the Clan of the same name, but they were all destroyed after a calamity wearing a similar face nearly flattened Konoha.”

Oh? There was indeed a Kurama Clan in Konoha, masters of genjutsu the likes of which were found nowhere else in the world. It made sense for a God of Mischief to claim such a skill, and even more sense if the destruction of the shrines could be linked to the Clan’s decline and the deadly consequences of their kekkei genkai. Jiraiya leaned in, scribbling frantically in his notebook. “What calamity?”

“The Nine Tailed Fox.”

His pencil stopped dead.

That…that would do it.

“I’m surprised no one remembers this,” Fukasaku complained. “It wasn’t so long ago, at all! Our summoner at the time wasn’t a member of any village, but he noted the sudden decrease in shrines dedicated to anything other than the Sage. Surely that would have been recorded somewhere? Humans are a very superstitious bunch!”

“Katsuyu-sama would know more,” Shima said, patting her husband on his back. “She is the bride of Saiken, after all. He’s one of the Lesser Six.”

What?

In all his years beside Tsunade, he’d never heard the slug summons mentions anything about that.

“She’s rather private when it comes to her love life,” Shima said, cupping her cheeks and blushing like a maiden. “But, sometimes, she’ll share one of his poems. A master of haikus, he was. Such a charmer.”

Both Fukasaku and Jiraiya glared at her, but for different reasons.

“ _I_ can be charming,” the old toad insisted as Jiraiya settled in to think.

So, the Choumei he’d dismissed as yet another extremely localized deity was actually someone old enough to give the toads pause. And apparently curse the entire Senju Clan, but that wasn’t really something that could be verified. He’d need to find someone else with a summoning contract to see if any more information could be gleaned.

All of this was very interesting, but it was also a convenient distraction from the sad reality he’d unknowingly brought into being.

He bowed his head to the two elderly toads.

“I’m sorry,” he said earnestly. “If I had just asked you, I would have known better than to send so many toads out into the forest.”

In truth, even without this vital new information, he should have known better. The Aburame barely tolerated his summons, and there was a tacit understanding that no one would get eaten. Taking toads into the forest which was apparently the Aburame ancestral homeland was not his brightest moment.

If only his mistakes didn’t have such deadly consequences.

He shook his head to clear it, dispelling the cloud of depression before it could settle over his mind. The toads had already forgiven him, though any respect he’d gained over the years was now gone, so he should focus on moving forward.

He bid farewell to the two Toad Sages and left his tent. The camp was bustling with activity, the Konoha shinobi still on edge from the pulse of chakra which was apparently Benihime counting her bugs. Which, ok? Weird, but ok.

Also an incredible display of power. How old was she? Nine? Ten? How much chakra did she have? Also, the kind of control needed to count each and every insect in the forest was just…

He couldn’t even fathom it. Usually, more chakra meant less control, but this kiddo was apparently some kind of exception. Was it because of her relationship with her god? He’d never heard of anything like that. Priests, monks, and other non-secular groups used chakra in interesting ways, but they were documented ways. Then again, given the conversation he just had, maybe her techniques _had_ been documented, once, only to be forgotten over years of disuse or no communication.

His eyes locked onto his target and he crossed the campground. He placed a hand on Fugaku’s shoulder, letting him know with a silent nod that he wanted to speak with him when he was finished with his conversation.

The Uchiha stepped up to where he was waiting, a scowl on his face and his arms already crossed defensively.

“What do you want?”

He wasn’t very friendly, but, Jiraiya supposed, he didn’t need to be.

“I need to speak with one of your summons. There’s something I need to confirm.”

Fugaku raised one fine eyebrow at him, but that was the only sign of surprise on his face.

“Are yours not enough?”

Jiraiya smothered his upset, letting the need to retaliate roll over him. “They are. That’s why I need one of yours. There are cats in the temple, right? That’s what Mikoto-chan’s report said. I need some insight from an animal native to the region. My toads are too obvious as outsiders.”

Fugaku stood there, looking up at him with empty black eyes. Then, he smirked. Jiraiya let him have that sense of triumph. He was above such things. Really. He didn’t need to engage in a pissing contest with someone younger than him. He had a cool ninja nickname, Fugaku did not.

A puff of smoke revealed a grey tabby cat with green eyes as emotionless as his summoner’s.

“This is Tora.” Fugaku bowed to the cat, cupping one hand over a fist in a martial salute. “Tora, this is Jiraiya, one of the Sannin. He needs your help with his reconnaissance.”

The cat gave Fugaku a long, slow, blink before turning to Jiraiya.

“Well?” The cat’s voice was low and raspy. “Lead the way.”

He did. He held his tent flap open for the dignified feline as it entered. It leapt up off the ground and settled on the table where his notes sat in haphazard piles.

Jiraiya took a seat of his own on an empty crate. He pulled his notebook out and pressed the tip of his pencil to the paper.

“Thank you for your time, Tora-san. I would like to ask you about something called the Nine Divines.”

The cat’s green eyes widened, pupils narrowing to slits. “Oh, I see. Have you encountered one?”

“Yes, the Lacquered Beetle.”

The cat nodded, the tip of its tail flickering angrily. “Choumei. I see, I see. You’ve angered him, haven’t you?” The cat shook his head in a surprisingly human gesture. “That’s not good. Not good at all. Nya.”

…Nya?

“Please,” Jiraiya implored him. “Tell me everything you can.”

* * *

Hiruzen read through his student’s report. Jiraiya was his spymaster. An observant man by nature, Jiraiya’s reports never spared any detail, no matter how innocuous. Those were the official reports, however. The reports he sent to Hiruzen were much more succinct.

Normally.

The one in his hands was long and involved, containing interviews from several different summons. He’d never heard of anything called the Nine Divines, but they apparently had more sway over the world than the Sage. The revelation that the Senju line had been cursed for the destruction of the temple in the forest was hard to accept, but it did explain a few things. He’d never tell Tsunade-chan, of course, but it was still interesting to consider. Jiraiya suggested asking the other summons in the village about the Nine and he agreed that it was probably the best course of action, but he wasn’t sure he wanted someone other than his student handling that kind of information.

Setting aside the issue of gods and their wrath, he turned his attention to the child. She had directly engaged with Jiraiya and his toads, revealing more of the mischievous nature Sakumo had described. As well as terrifying power. Her sensory range was incredible and would be a great asset to any village. If she really was from Taki, as she claimed, then there was no way they were simply leaving her to her own devices. Odds were Taki was somewhere in that forest. It may be why Iwa suddenly decided to abandon it.

Still, Taki hadn’t interfered, yet.

That he knew of.


	26. PMS Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eve you wicked woman, you done put your curse on me  
> Why didn't you just leave that apple hangin' in the tree  
> You make us hate our husbands, our lovers and our boss  
> Why i can't even count the good friends i've already lost  
> Cause of pms blues, pms blues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter vaguely covers menstruation. Nothing is explicitly described, but if that bothers you, jump down to the words "in taki" to skip the majority of it. There's some exposition to be had in this chapter, but it's not vital or anything, so if you'd rather just skip it altogether, then feel free.

Benihime lay on her side, her body aching dully. She curled in on herself, huddling underneath her threadbare blanket. She wasn’t sure why she was in so much pain. She hadn’t upped her exercise regimen or anything. Maybe, she’d eaten something bad? Did she have allergies? She didn’t remember eating anything different from usual, though. She was also tired, despite sleeping through the night and most of the day. Fatigue had settled over her like a shroud, weighing her down for the better part of a week. It was like she’d run some kind of marathon but without any of the accomplishment.

She groaned loudly as she pulled herself up into a sitting position, her blanket wrapped around herself and her feet swinging over the side of her bed. Just doing that much had her aching.

Was she sick? Naruto never got sick, so she just assumed jinchuriki had super charged immune systems. Or was that fanon? She had a hard time separating the two, sometimes.

 **You’re not sick,** Choumei sniffed indignantly. **As if my host would be so unlucky.**

Well, that was nice to know. It didn’t explain any of the symptoms she was experiencing, but it was nice to know it wasn’t some kind of flu.

Wait…was she vaccinated? Did vaccines exist in this world? Or did chakra take care of all that?

Her thoughts fizzled out, the cloud hanging over her mind swallowing all coherent ideation.

Blegh.

She hadn’t eaten yet. Maybe, if she had something in her stomach, she’d be able to think clearly.

She slid from her bed, the cold of the stone floor sending a shock through her system. It wasn’t enough to wake her up, though. She stumbled through the hallway with her blanket wrapped around her shoulders like a cape, bouncing from wall to wall as she used them to prop herself up. As she neared the doorway to the courtyard, she could hear Roshi and Han speaking indistinctly. She stepped into the kitchen, sniffling pathetically as she pulled out some jerky. She would prefer a warm meal, but she didn’t have the energy to make anything, so jerky would have to suffice. She pulled at the meat with her teeth, chewing glumly. She did feel a little better after swallowing a few mouthfuls, but her mind was still hazy.

A shower. That’s what she needed. A nice, hot, steamy shower. Unfortunately, she hadn’t had one since waking up inside a new body. She’d long gotten used to bathing with cold water and, while that might wake her up, it would do nothing for her aching muscles. If anything, it might make them worse.

“What’s the matter, Hime-chan,” Roshi asked, walking into the kitchen with a string of rabbits in his hand. “You’ve been asleep all day. You usually rise with the sun.”

He placed a hand on her head, ruffling the curls gently but not enough to tangle them. Her head lolled on her neck, moving in tandem with his hand and flopping over when he let her go. She chewed at her jerky idly as he placed a hand on her forehead, Choumei chiming in that there was nothing wrong with her.

“Well, you don’t have a fever or anything. How about you go outside while I make you something to eat? The fresh air might do you some good.”

She had no reason to argue with him, so she let him pull her to her feet. She waddled out into the fading sunlight, plopping down into a cross legged sit right beside the door. She watched with bleary eyes as Han played a game of tag with a wild colt, the baby horse just as long legged and gangly as he was. The horses had become gradually more comfortable around the humans, spending more time in the temple than they usually did. By extension, the cows were around more, too. The monkeys which so kindly showed Beni which foods were safe to eat when she first arrived were also friendlier, letting them all closer but Roshi closest. Still, they couldn’t talk to their animal counterparts the way she could. The horses didn’t whisper secrets to Han and the monkeys shared no wisdom with Roshi.

 **That’s because they’re first generation jinchuriki,** Choumei said, his gravelly voice coming in muffled through the cotton in her head. **You remember Naruto’s whiskers? He had those because he was exposed to bijuu chakra in the womb. You were, too.**

Oh. That made sense. So, could her mother speak to beetles, too? Since her dad was a jinchuriki.

 **To an extent,** Choumei confirmed. **But she wasn’t exposed to as much as you were, so she could only command a few breeds.**

Huh, so Beni was just a powered up version of her mom? That was kinda cool. Wait, would her kids end up with even _stronger_ bug powers?

An epiphany blew through her mind, clearing the fog that had taken up residence.

Holy shit. Holy _shit. Holy Shit._

Her blanket slipped from her shoulders, pooling around her waist as she pressed her hands against her abdomen, a wellspring of tentative hope rising within her.

She knew the body she wore now was cis. Taking her first bath and finding Voldemort slain was one of her favorite memories. However, she’d never really stopped to consider what that actually meant for her. She was too busy just trying to survive to stop and consider the biological realities of her situation.

Before, she’d long come to terms with the fact that she’d have no children of her own. Her family wasn’t very…welcoming. She wasn’t willing to bring an adopted child into that environment, and she sure as hell wasn’t gonna be… _siring_ any of her own. No. She would be the cool aunty. It took a while and many tear filled nights, but she eventually came to accept that as her role in life. Maybe, if she one day gained the courage to cut off everyone she knew, then maybe she’d reconsider. Until then, though, she had convinced herself she was content.

After coming to this world, she hadn’t had the time to stop and think about her future beyond tomorrow. Even after she’d managed to amass a stockpile of resources, she busied herself with improving her quality of life. She had things to do if she wanted to live well, and her chores were a matter of survival. Between that and all the drama with people trying to convert her to the colonizer’s side, she’d clean forgotten about her uterus.

**Ah, so you finally realized! I was wondering how long it would take you. I figured you’d be pretty excited.**

She was! Well, beneath the general malaise affecting her mind and body. Although, she had a pretty good guess what was causing that, now. Unless she was completely wrong.

**You’re not. You’ve officially crossed the threshold into womanhood.**

…

She was fucking nine.

 **In Taki,** Choumei began, his tone more serious than it’d been in a long while. **Your husband would be chosen once you began menstruation.**

Um, ew?

**You wouldn’t get married right away of course. He might even be swapped out. Hotaru’s was, several times, as their families threw themselves into missions to gain enough merits to void the punishment.**

Was…was marrying her mother a punishment? That was so fucked up.

Beni looked at the tattoos circling her forearms, legacies of a crime she didn’t commit. Hell, _Kakuzu_ hadn’t even committed the crime he was punished for. Surviving a fight with the strongest shinobi of his age was something the village should have been grateful for, especially since Hashirama hadn’t retaliated against them for their assassination attempt. Getting angry at Kakuzu for surviving an impossible situation made literally zero sense, and, yet, here she sat, bearing tattoos that marked her as his kin and thus untouchable.

 **Indeed,** Choumei continued. **That was one of the reasons her seal was broken prematurely. All her life, she was a perfect pawn, doing as she was told without question and never rebelling. To be fair to her, she wasn’t treated as badly in the beginning. It was only after you were conceived that things started to reach Naruto territory.**

Huh. That was…So, it was her fault her mother was dead?

 **No. Absolutely not.** Choumei shut down that train of thought before it could leave the station. **She chose to have you. You were the only choice she ever made and she was willing to bear the consequences.**

That was actually super sweet. Or, it would have been, if Keiko hadn’t lived her entire live underground, in a prison cell, rarely interacting with anyone other than her mother and the guards who fed her.

 **Yes. Hotaru loved you, but she wasn’t…she didn’t…** The bijuu sighed heavily. **She was brainwashed, plain and simple. She had the opportunity to escape, back in Kumo. Your father loved her dearly and the village would have gladly welcomed another jinchuriki to its ranks, but she left, anyway. You were her keepsake, her one memento of the life she could have had. Even after returning to Taki, she could have left at any time using the Nyoi Bo, but she didn’t. I won’t pretend to understand what made her so loyal to a village which chained her and her offspring so easily, but humans as a whole have often puzzled me. You’re only my third proper host, you know, and I’ve learned more about the human mind from your memories than I have from your mother and grandfather, combined.**

Beni also had a hard time understanding her mother’s reasoning. If she had the power to leave, why didn’t she?

Then again, that was a question lots of women were asked, often after it was too late for them to answer.

Just like Hotaru.

She shook her head, silently admonishing herself. Her mother was dead. Short of mastering the zombie technique from Shippuden, there was no way for Hotaru to defend herself, so Beni would let it go. Instead, she would pray that Keiko was with her mother, in whichever afterlife they favored.

A cup of tea was held in front of her face and she reached out to take it from Roshi. He sat down beside her, a bowl of soup in his hands.

“Well, feeling better?”

She nodded as she sipped at the tea. It was stronger than she liked it, but that was fine. Kindness was the best flavor.

“Any idea what’s plaguing you?” He asked, stirring idly at the broth in his hands. “Do I need to lock you away for the good of the world?”

She chuckled a bit at his lame attempt at a joke then told him exactly what she thought was going on. His face paled beneath his beard and he suddenly looked very uncomfortable.

Oh. _Oh._ So it was that kind of culture. Well, then. It was too bad for him he was stuck with her, huh?


	27. How to Save a Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where did I go wrong?  
> I lost a friend  
> Somewhere along in the bitterness  
> And I would have stayed up with you all night  
> Had I known how to save a life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've wanted to write this chapter for a long time! I kept pushing it off, though, since I figured more time needed to go by, first. I hope you like it!! I cried, lol

Beni stopped dead in her tracks, Han stumbling to a halt beside her. His questions echoed in her hollow skull, bouncing around like a 90s screensaver. Finally, one of them aligned perfectly with a corner and she turned to him, the Nyoi Bo and the baskets hanging from it falling from her shoulder as she grasped both of his in her hands, pulling him down until their faces were uncomfortably close.

“What month is it?”

His orange eyes regarded her with concern, but he answered all the same. “It’s February, why?”

Shit. When was Kakashi’s birthday again? It already passed, didn’t it? Fuck!

She picked up the Nyoi Bo, not even bothering to shrink it as she leapt into the trees, leaving a startled Han behind. A small part of her felt bad for abandoning him like that, but it was tiny compared to the rest of her, which was too busy panicking to remember he hadn’t completely memorized the way back to the temple, yet.

Shit. What was she gonna do? Was she already too late?

**What are you going on about?**

Sakumo! Sakumo was gonna die! If he died, then Kakashi would become a total asshole who played by the rules and he would bungle that mission where Obito gets crushed under a boulder and then Obito would be brainwashed by his evil grandpa Madara and become Tobi after watching Rin die and then he’d kill his sensei and release Kurama only for him to be sealed inside a baby Naruto and lead to a lifetime of suffering for an innocent child and then he’d murder the Uchihas and the _Sasuke_ would become a total asshole and then—.

**Woah! Woah! Calm down, grasshopper.**

How could she calm down? She completely forgot about his tragic death! If she’d remembered sooner, she could have kept him at the temple and spared him his fate! But no! She was stupid! One of her favorite characters’ tragic backstory was unfolding before her eyes and she hadn’t even recognized it!

**Now, that’s a little harsh. It’s not like there’s anything you can do about it.**

Yes, there is.

She landed in the middle of the courtyard with a roll, maintaining her momentum as she stormed through her house to her bedroom, falling to her hands and knees as she pulled out one of the storage scrolls Kiba’s mom’s team had used to gift her a bunch of cooking supplies. That was ages ago, now, but the scrolls looked to be in good shape. She’d figured out how to open them, so it should only take her a few minutes to pack up a few essentials.

**Wait!**

Choumei’s chakra filled her veins, freezing her in place. He hadn’t seized control of her body like this since the beginning, and she found she still didn’t like it.

**Calm down! You’re letting your fear control you. What are you going to do? Run all the way to Konoha? Then what? Hmm? What will you do? Sakumo is a high ranking shinobi and you’re a foreign larva! How do you propose to even reach him in time? Do you know how far away Konoha even is?**

She knew that. She did. But she was officially incapable of thinking rationally. If he died, then all the same dominos would fall. Nothing would change.

**And? Who cares? It doesn’t have anything to do with you.**

“Yes, it does,” she hissed aloud, no longer willing or able to keep her thoughts inside her head. “They come for us, Choumei. They come for all of us! The Akatsuki only start hunting bijuu because of Tobi and Obito only becomes Tobi because of Kakashi, and Kakashi only gets _like that_ because of Sakumo! If he lives, we won’t have to worry about that!”

 **You don’t know that,** he admonished. **Madara’s been around a long time—Zetsu even longer. It’s naïve of you to think they don’t have other plans set in place.**

“Well, at least this one will be foiled.”

 **Yes, but if you do that, then we’ll lose the advantage your memories afford us!** Choumei actually sounded angry, his batman voice really coming in handy, for once. **We know what will happen. Because we know that, we can plan for it. The instant you change things, we lose any chance at predicting the enemy.**

“We should just eliminate the enemy now, before they become an issue,” Beni insisted. “What about Isobu? If we just sit by and do nothing, he and his jinchuriki will be under Tobi’s control for literal decades! Is that what you want?”

**Don’t you use my brother to threaten me!**

“Your inaction is the only thing threatening him, here! We have the opportunity to completely avoid that outcome, but you want to just sit on our hands and do nothing!”

 **I _want_ you to be safe! **Choumei’s rage filled her body, but it was tempered by serious panic and concern she couldn’t ignore even if she wanted to. **If you go there, you know how they’ll treat you. How you’ll suffer. Even if they don’t know what you are, you’re still different, and the phrase “the nail that sticks up gets hammered down” comes from the Land of Fire. They’ll be cruel to you, worse than they might be to Naruto, even. I watched as Taki worsened its treatment of your mother, punishing her for bearing a child whose father they didn’t choose. I saw how they treated Keiko-chan and how she suffered for it. All her life, she said not a single word. I don’t want to watch someone I care for suffer like that, again.**

She knew that. Not everyone was like Sakumo, or the Ino-Shika-Cho trio. It was more likely that Fugaku’s stiff attitude was the norm in his village and she’d be the butt of scorn and ridicule simply for daring to exist.

In her mind, that was even more reason to try and save Sakumo if she could. The world needed more men like him in it.

 **You’re not even being honest with yourself,** Choumei groused. **Tell me, do you want to save him because of all the things that will change if you do, or do you want to save him because you like him?**

Well, he was pretty hot. And patient, always taking the time to answer her questions even when he knew she was being an ass. He really was a good adult for a child to have, nothing at all like her father from Before…

Alright, fine, she was being selfish. So what? He was the first human she met in this new life who didn’t immediately try to kill her. That kind of shit leaves a permanent mark, ok? It wasn’t her fault.

Tears welled in her eyes as she pictured him dying, alone in his home with a blade in his gut, his son finding his corpse and being traumatized for life. Sobs began to shake her body, the sound ugly and the tears plenty.

 **Yes, yes, get it all out,** Choumei sighed, his chakra seeping out of her muscles and back into the seal. **You humans imprint on anything that shows you the slightest kindness, it’s ridiculous.**

She felt like she ought to be insulted, but she was too busy crying to retort.

 **Really,** he continued. **If you’d opened up with your affection instead of all those other reasons, I might have agreed sooner.**

What? He was agreeing?

 **Well, it’s not like I have a choice, now do I? You like the old man and you’ll be sad if he dies. I get it. Human lives are too short to be spent alone. Still, I had to make sure you were aware of the potential consequences of your actions. If you do this,** his tone was deathly serious. **You might not be able to come back to the temple for a long time. What about Roshi and Han? Are you willing to leave them behind for your silver fox?**

A fist closed over her heart as she thought about that. She loved Roshi and Han. They were integral parts of her life. She wasn’t willing to leave them, at all, but…She had to. Even if she was too late, she had to go. It was unfortunate, but Konoha was the main setting. Everything and everyone of consequence were there. The actions of one Konoha shinobi had rippling consequences which affected the literal rest of the world. It was stupid, but it was reality. By saving Sakumo—or, God forbid, cleaning up the mess caused by his death—she would be able to protect her fellow jinchuriki from Tobi’s wrath, hopefully by keeping Tobi from existing, at all.

Choumei sighed again, long and mournful. **You’re not wrong. Already, your presence has changed my siblings’ lives for the better. In the ‘canon’, Roshi went forty years without learning Son’s name. Now, he will probably learn it before the end of the year. That’s a serious improvement. Still, I’d much rather you stayed away from _that village_. You know what they’ve done to us. They’re the reason you’re even a jinchuriki in the first place!**

If she wasn’t a jinchuriki, she might never have met Choumei.

**Ah. Oops. I forgot about that.**

So did she, sometimes. Those were the best times. Still, her nightmares were keen to remind her of the past she couldn’t erase.

“I need to save him,” she hiccoughed, wiping tears from her eyes with the sleeve of the red kimono Roshi had stolen for her ages ago. “Please, help me save him.”

Choumei sighed again. **Fine. I hope he’s worth it. Take off your kimono. You’ll need to cut out the back.**

She did as she was told, letting Choumei’s chakra flow through her hands to become claws as she cut through the fabric without an ounce of guilt. Why was she doing this?

**Well, you want to get there as soon as possible, right? Walking will get you nowhere and you’ll just get lost. So, I’m going to get us there!**

Wait. Fu had wings, right? Was he giving her wings!?

**Fufufun, I am indeed. But you need to hurry. The window of opportunity is closing fast.**

She wasn’t sure what that meant, but it lit a fire under her all the same. She cut a sizeable hole in the back of her kimono, setting aside the patch of fabric before putting her clothing back on. Her back was bare, but it wasn’t cold. If anything, it burned as Choumei channeled chakra through the seal. Her upper back hurt like hell all of a sudden, but she didn’t have time to stop and think about it. She resumed stuffing things inside her tattered scroll, grabbing her collection of cool exoskeletons and smooth stones as well as her blanket and the woven mat which served as her mattress. When she was done, her room didn’t look all that much different. She didn’t own a lot of things. Stepping out into the hallway, she considered taking the green jade idol of Choumei, but decided against it. It belonged in the temple, whether she was there or not. Reaching above it, she pulled her makeshift cross down and added it to her scroll.

“What’s going on here?”

She froze, feeling very much like a thief caught in the act. She turned around to see Roshi frowning at her over crossed arms, his broad figure filling the hallway.

He raised one red eyebrow at her. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were running away.”

She chuckled nervously, looking at anything but him.

“What’s with the hole in your kimono? Did you rip it?”

She let out another humorless laugh as she tried to find a way out of this mess. Choumei offered no assistance, no doubt hoping Roshi would convince her to stay. The beetle may have been willing to help her, but that didn’t mean he agreed with her choice.

Roshi sighed, running one large hand down his face. “What are you doing, Hime-chan? Where could you possibly have to go?”

She was a little insulted by that, but he was right.

“There’s someone I have to save,” she said with a small voice, suddenly feeling all nine of her years. Her past life didn’t count, not really. Her brain was wired differently now. “I have to get to them right now, or I’ll be too late.”

There was some kind of time limit at work. She wasn’t sure how or why, but it existed and it was counting down.

Roshi frowned at her. “What? Who is it? I can get you there if it’s so important.”

“No!” They were both startled by her outburst. “No,” she said again, calmer this time. “You can’t come. It’s not safe for you.”

“But it is for you? Sage, kid, where are you going? Konoha?”

The look on her face must have given it away because his frown quickly twisted into a disbelieving scowl.

“You can’t be serious, Hime. You hate them. Who could you possibly—?” He cut himself off. “It’s Sakumo. You’re going for Sakumo. Fuck.” He ran a hand through his red hair, hissing angrily through his teeth. “You do know that was his mission, right? You realize he was only here to befriend you? He doesn’t really care.”

It hurt to hear, and she knew he was probably right. Still, all her other reasons still stood.

“I have to go,” she said softly, as much to herself and Choumei as to Roshi. “He’s gonna die if I don’t do something.”

“How can you know that? Did you have a bad dream? It’s not real, Hime-chan. He’s probably fine.”

She shook her head adamantly. “No! You don’t understand. He’s really gonna die. He might be dead already!”

He didn’t understand. At all. How could she expect him to, when he hadn’t lived a life where Naruto had reached its final episodes? Was anime even a thing in this world?

“I’m sorry,” she said honestly, tears again burning her eyes. “I really am. I want to stay here with you, but I can’t! He needs somebody, and I’m the only one who knows!”

Roshi stood there in the hallway, blocking her path. Her back was starting to sting, whatever Choumei was doing pricking at her nerves. She held Roshi’s gaze, his black eyes stern.

“I can’t in good conscience let you go, Hime-chan. You know what they’ll do to you.”

“I know!” She shouted, once again surprising them both with her vehemence. “I know what they’ll do! But I’m not going for them! I’m going for him!”

She sniffled, wiping at her eyes. Roshi sighed wearily before stepping up to her, placing his hands on her shoulders and holding on tight.

“Promise me,” he said thickly. “That you’ll come back. If someone hurts you or they try to make you do anything you don’t want to do, come back.”

“I promise.” She meant it, too. “The instant I’ve done what I need to do, I’ll come back!”

She conveniently left out how long that might take her, but Roshi seemed satisfied, nonetheless.

He stepped back, clearing his throat with suspicious force. “Alright,” he said louder than necessary. “What have you already packed? Does Han know?”

Oh. Han. Oops. She forgot about that.

Roshi helped her stuff food and amenities inside her scroll, insisting she take more than she thought she needed on the pretext that living in Konoha might end up being harder than she thought, despite its access to running water, markets, and chemical cleaners. Her little scroll was filled to the brim with preserved meats, handmade soap, raincoats and hats woven from grasses and reeds, kindling made from dried moss, and all sorts of other things needed for outdoor survival. Did he think she would end up living in the Forest of Death?

Now that she thought about it, that might not be a bad idea. No one would bother her there.

“Beni-chan,” Han’s voice called out from the courtyard. “What happened? Why did you run off?”

Her guilt about leaving him out there compounded as she realized she would be leaving him behind, too. Roshi, at least, was an adult, but Han was a little kid. She was his only friend in his age group, and she was leaving.

Well, they could still meet through their seals, right? They could, right?

**Yes, you can.**

Thank God.

With a heavy heart, she stepped out into the courtyard, Roshi following slowly. Upon looking at Han’s worried expression, she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his chest. He stumbled backward from the force of her embrace and she could feel him floundering as he hesitated to return the hug.

“Damn, Hime-chan,” Roshi said with a low whistle. “You never mentioned wings.”

Ah, they must have come in. Weird. She didn’t remember Fu’s taking so long. Weren’t they just chakra constructs?

**_I_ am a chakra construct. You are not Fu. Your bodies are not the same. Stop comparing yourself to her.**

Ok. She could do that.

She stepped back from Han, tears once again clouding her vision.

“I’m sorry,” she told him, the confusion in his face making her feel even worse. “I really am. If it helps, I promise you’ll always be my second best friend.”

He cocked his head, orange eyes looking down at her with a forlorn light of realization. “Only second?”

She nodded, forcing herself to smile. “Mushi is first.”

The beetle in question was sitting on his shoulder and she realized with another wave of guilt that he must have helped Han find his way back to the temple. She held her hand out to her little buddy, sniffling as he crawled over without hesitation. Roshi walked over, pulling Han aside to explain the situation.

_Sad? Larva sad?_

She laughed despite herself, those words conjuring up a happy memory. “Yes, Mushi, I’m sad.”

_Fun? Larva need fun?_

She smiled at him. “Not this time, Mushi. I’m leaving, now, and I don’t know when I’ll be back. I wanted to say goodbye.”

_No._

That startled a genuine laugh out of her. “What do you mean, no?”

_No goodbye. Goodbye bad._

He wasn’t wrong. Her smile wobbled precariously as she tried to find the words to explain to a beetle that his human might not come back in his lifetime. It was actually kind of amazing he’d lived so long, in the first place.

**You could just take him with you.**

Choumei’s suggestion caught her by surprise. Could she really?

**Sure, why not? He’s yours, isn’t he? He’ll just have to hold on.**

Happiness swelled inside her and brought a new kind of tears to her eyes. She pulled open the front of her kimono, tucking the giant beetle between the layers of cloth.

“Stay in there, Mushi. We’re going on a trip.”

**In our favorite rocket ship!**

The delighted snort that left her was a hideous sound and it caught the boys’ attention. Han walked up to her, drooping with sadness.

“You’re really leaving?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I’ll come back, though, once my job is done. And we can talk through our seals! So, I won’t fall totally off the face of the earth.”

That expression was clearly new to him, but he got the gist of it. His bottom lip quivered as he tried to hold in his tears and she reached out, wanting to comfort him.

**We need to go. The margin is closing.**

She closed her eyes and sighed, mustering up a flimsy smile for her friends.

“I’ll miss you guys,” she said honestly, struck by the space they’d come to occupy in her heart. “I’ll contact you soon.”

“You’d better,” Roshi sneered, his bluster doing nothing to hide the thin film of tears in his own eyes. “I want a weekly check in, young lady.”

“Yes, nii-chan. Whatever you say.”

He sputtered a half hearted protest as Beni leapt away, running down a winding path between ancient trees. Once, years ago, she’d followed this same path, a beetle guiding the way as it sought alleviate her boredom.

Now, when she reached the cliffside with its bracing winds, she did not stop, she dove. The winds tugged at her hair and clothing and for a terrifying moment she forgot she had wings, the instinctive fear of falling gripping her body and locking her muscles. Then, the wings on her back caught the powerful updraft, yoinking her up as they moved on their own. They were controlled by Choumei’s chakra, pulling her along for the ride as they fluttered, the sound like a giant hummingbird buzzing in her ears.

As she was carried across the vast expanse of green treetops, her mind was filled with one word.

_Fun!_

* * *

Sakumo sat in his empty home, the winter cold suffusing his body and taking root in his bones. When was the last time he saw Kakashi? The little boy was in his first year at the academy, but it looked like he would be graduating early. He’d made his feelings about that clear, but, then, his words didn’t exactly carry any weight, anymore. His son would be put on a battlefield and there was nothing he could do about it. About anything, really. His son, who looked so much like him, who suffered for the sins of his father, who looked at him with cold, accusing eyes, his ears filled with the rumors and gossip which condemned them both.

Ah, Kakashi. He’d really failed him, hadn’t he? A child needed a parent, but a war also needed soldiers. He was never home when his son needed him, and now that he was, he was plagued by an earned reputation.

He did what he thought was right and, he knew, he would do it again if given the choice. Still, he wished the consequences of his actions could be born by him alone. His son had nothing to do with it, so the way everyone insisted on lumping them together was aggravating. A four year old didn’t deserve such ridicule and cruelty.

Ah, but he really was useless. The only thing he could do for the boy, now, was something even more shameful than failure. Still, it was better for Kakashi to be the victim of tragedy than the son of Sakumo.

The blade in his hand glittered in the pale light of the winter moon. Kakashi was outside the village for an academy survival exorcize, so he shouldn’t be back before Sakumo had finished his death throes. He left the shoji door open, giving himself a view to the outside and, more importantly, the outside a view of him. With any luck, someone would notice his corpse before Kakashi came home and he’d be spared the horror of finding his father dead in their own home. Still, even if he was the one who found him, it would only add to the tragedy and elicit even more sympathy from the village to take the place of the scorn he currently faced;

Ah. This was going to hurt.

He lifted the blade, both hands wrapped around the hilt. He’d spent the last week sharpening it as he wallowed on his decision. Many times, he almost changed his mind. In the end, this was the best course of action. Kakashi deserved to be more than just _that man’s son_.

Sakumo inhaled, savoring his last proper breath. An errant breeze carried the scent of snow, Konoha, and Benihime.

Ah, to be thinking of her at a time like this. What would she say if she heard? Would she even care? Or would she be glad to see Konoha’s numbers dwindle by one?

He pushed those thoughts aside and raised his hands even further, struggling not to brace himself against the coming blade.

In the same instant where he brought it down with more than enough force to skewer himself, something collided with him. The blade clattered out of his hands, the shock of being interrupted overtaking his battle honed instincts. He was thrown to the side, the force of impact sending him and whatever had attacked him rolling away. Another set of shoji doors leading into the hallway were ruined beneath their combined weight. They came to a stop with Sakumo on his back. He looked up at his attacker with open mouthed surprise.

It was Benihime, his nose foretelling her arrival with wicked accuracy. She’d grown since he last saw her, but he thought that everyday in the temple, her growth spurts boggling his mind. Other than her height, she looked very much the same. The moon cast highlights in her golden hair, reflecting off her warm brown skin and giving her an ethereal look. What caught his eye, though, were the wings sprouting from her back. As long as she was tall, they pointed out to either side, red-gold gossamer catching the moonlight and bathing the wooden floor in red. As he watched, they began to burn up as though eaten from within. Black ashes fell to the floor as Benihime panted heavily, staring down at him with angry green eyes.

“You,” she spat as her pet beetle crawled out from within her red kimono. “Are _so_ lucky.”


	28. Immigrants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Man, I was brave, sailing on graves  
> Don't think I didn't notice those tombstones disguised as waves  
> I'm no dummy, here is something funny, you can be an immigrant without risking your lives  
> Or crossing these borders with thrifty supplies  
> All you got to do is see the world with new eyes  
> Immigrants, we get the job done

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my favorite parts of this story is how much time I was able to cover up 'til now. Really, it's amazing. I have a tendency to get bogged down and linger in my writing, typing out every minutiae and slowing my pacing to a grinding halt. I think I was able to go so fast in this story because there's no canon I'm trying to follow, like in the first Shinobi Isekai. The story is all mine, lol, I can skip as much time as I want. From here on out, though, things will be slower. Thus is the village life.

Hiruzen puffed on his pipe, the familiar flavor of his favorite tobacco blend filling his mouth and nose. Sitting across from him, legs crossed in her seat as she glared at him, was the child who’d made life harder than it needed to be for his men on the Iwa border. At first glance, her golden crown of riotous curls and rich dark skin brought Kumo to mind, but the longer he looked the more she appeared markedly different from the Raikage and his kin. Her pupiless green eyes were upturned and set beneath short, golden eyebrows that stood out against her warm skin. Her eyelashes, too, were golden, framing her eyes in a charming way.

Or, it would be charming, if she wasn’t making her anger known in every possible way.

She was sitting in a chair, but she still crossed her legs, her arms propped on her knees in a rude posture. She hadn’t even bowed to him or his council when she was escorted into his office. Mitokado and Utatane scowled at the obvious disrespect, but Hiruzen was more amused than offended. Despite her incredible height—another thing he ascribed to her Lightning heritage, they were all tall out there—she was still a child, only a few years older than his youngest, at that. Her cheeks were still somewhat round with baby fat, accentuating a pointed chin. Having lived her entire life in another country with a jinchuriki as the highest authority…well, it was understandable that she didn’t have a grasp of basic Konoha etiquette.

“It is nice to finally meet you, Benihime-chan,” he said amicably. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“It’s all lies,” she said blandly. “Lies and slander.”

He chuckled, not at all minding that she’d technically interrupted him. “Indeed? Well, that’s too bad. Sakumo-kun said you were clever and a joy to teach. Are you saying that isn’t true?”

She nodded sharply, her curls bouncing. “Yeah. It’s true for him, because I like him, but I don’t like you, so.” She shrugged, as though she hadn’t just told off the most powerful shinobi in the village.

Danzo slammed the butt of his cane on the floor, the sound sharp and angry though his expression looked much like it always did—sharp and angry.

“Your insolence goes too far!”

“Wrong!” Hiruzen raised an eyebrow in surprise as she pointed a finger at his old friend. “It can go a lot farther!”

Ha. She was cheeky, he’d give her that.

“Benihime-chan,” he interjected, as much to save her from Danzo’s anger as to keep himself from laughing at her antics. “I believe you already know why you’re here, yes?”

“The old man is a good little soldier and brought the anomaly to his commander.”

“Indeed.” Some of his jovial mask slipped at that. She wasn’t wrong, of course, but the way she worded it was…less than savory. “He has yet to make his own report, as I believed it best that we finish your processing first. Do you want to tell us what brought you to Konoha after making your feelings about us so abundantly clear?”

She cocked her head at him, those golden eyelashes fluttering closed over inscrutable eyes. He held no illusions when facing this child. Every second he held her gaze was a second he was judged. Did she find him wanting, he wondered? Did he meet her standards?

“For Sakumo.”

Yes, he’d gathered that much. She sat before him wearing one of Sakumo’s shirts, the neckline hanging over her shoulder and the bottom hem barely reaching her knees. She was wearing a pair of what had to be Sakumo’s shorts, though Hiruzen couldn’t remember ever seeing the shinobi wear them. They were too large for her, her slender legs swimming in the excess fabric. He may not have spoken to Sakumo about the incident, yet, but it was obvious that she’d gone straight to him.

“Yes, but why? More specifically, why now? Sakumo-kun has been gone from your temple for almost a year. What could have possible called you here?”

She looked down and away, her full lips pursing as she bit at the inside of her cheek. “I can’t say.”

Oh? He bit down on the stem of his pipe. “Can’t? Or won’t?”

She raised an eyebrow at him, looking very much unimpressed by his shift in tone. “What are you gonna do? Throw me at a Yamanaka?” She scoffed. “You can try. It won’t end well, though. I _can’t_ ,” she insisted. “Because it’s not my business. He hasn’t told you, yet, and I don’t know what he _will_ tell you, so I can’t just run my mouth. I came for him because he needed me, and that’s all I’ll say.”

Well, he couldn’t exactly argue with that, could he?

“How did you know? Your temple is very far from Konoha, my dear.”

She scowled as he gestured at the map of the continent spread out on the wall. Her temple was marked in the forested corner of what might become the Land of Fire’s territory. It really was quite far. Well over a thousand kilometers. An incredible distance for a child to traverse alone.

“I had a dream,” she answered after a long moment. “A dream that almost came true. I won’t tell you any more than that. If you want to know, you’ll need to ask the old man.”

That was fair enough.

Utatane sniffed disdainfully. “A dream? You crossed an entire nation for a dream?”

Benihime bared her teeth in a humorless smile, her crooked eyeteeth jogging a memory in the back of Hiruzen’s mind.

“Sometimes, my dreams come true. I’d rather this one didn’t, so I’m here.”

That was quite the confession to make. Was she claiming some kind of foresight?

“Not all of them, obviously,” she said with a laugh. “God, can you imagine if giant beetles took over the world? That would be something.”

Hiruzen let himself laugh as he revised his opinion of the girl. So, she’d admitted to having an incredibly valuable ability but she’d downplayed it by making it sound unreliable. Hmm. Clever.

“You must be exhausted, my dear,” Hiruzen crooned, channeling his parenting skills as he looked at her with a kindly expression. “You must have been on the road for quite a while.”

She shrugged again. “It’s no big deal. I had to get here, so I did.”

That kind of dedication was admirable. And exploitable.

“You must care greatly for Sakumo-kun. I’m sure he is grateful for your allegiance.”

“My _allegiance,_ ” she cut in. “Is to myself. Sakumo has my affection.”

Indeed. “And how far does that affection go, I wonder?”

She sighed, rolling her beautiful eyes with all the force of a teenager’s angst. “Ugh, just cut to the chase. At this rate, I’ll be as gray as the old man by the time you slap a headband on me.”

Oho.

Hiruzen chuckled even as his old teammates bristled with anger.

“Very well, then,” he said with a smile. “Why don’t you tell us what you think we want.”

She bared her teeth at them, again. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m a shiny new toy to add to your collection, complete with cool, never before seen powers you can’t wait to try on your enemies. I’ll bet you’re thinking of setting me against Kumo, just for the poetic irony of it all. Am I wrong?”

No. Not at all. Still, he couldn’t just admit that. Especially not the way she’d phrased it.

“I’ll tell you what,” she said, unfolding her legs and stretching them out, pointing her bare feet in a stretch. “I’ll join your village. For free, even. I’ll stick around, do your evil bidding, until the end of the war. Then, we can hash out a new deal. How’s that sound?”

How amusing. She really thought she was in a position to negotiate.

Well, there was some use in a child’s naivety.

He smiled benignly, letting himself laugh at her youthful optimism. “That suits me just fine. And you, my friends? Any objections?”

“I want it in writing!” The girl insisted, hopping to her feet and approaching his desk in a serious breach of etiquette. “I want signatures, seals, the whole caboodle—in triplicate!”

She came to a stop in front of him, looking him in the eye. He leaned back in his seat, smiling around his pipe stem at her audacity.

“That can be arranged.”

He reached over and pulled a clean sheet of paper. He dipped his pen into its inkwell and began to write out a ‘contract’ for his newest little kunoichi. She leaned forward, tilting her head as she tried to read what he was writing.

“Now, before I finish this,” he said slowly, looking up to gauge her reaction. “There is one thing I want you to do for me.”

She scowled and crossed her arms over her chest. “What is it?”

“I don’t suppose you can mark Taki down on our map for us? No one has ever known its exact location, and we would be ever so grateful if you could—.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, ok, whatever. No need to lay it on so thick.”

She walked over to the giant map on the wall, reaching out with her hand to point at the marker for her temple. From there, she slowly moved her finger northwest, further and further from the border with the Land of Fire.

Finally, her finger came to a stop. “Here. Ish. It’s around here, anyway.”

Danzo stood, walking up behind the girl and marking the location for future reference.

“How easily you give up your village,” Hiruzen’s teammate accused lowly. “I don’t suppose we can expect any loyalty from you, either.”

She scoffed, stepping away from him and heading back to Hiruzen’s desk. “Trust me, there’s nothing you could possibly do that would be worse than them. Taki can burn to the ground for all I care.”

With that cheery incentive, Hiruzen wrote his name at the bottom of the page and pressed his thumb into a sponge soaked with red ink before adding his thumbprint, channeling chakra to make it official. He passed the contract over to her before pulling out another page and recreating the contract word for word.

“I’m keeping this one,” she said as she signed her own name and added her thumbprint below his. “Wouldn’t want it to be conveniently lost, or anything.”

She really distrusted them, didn’t she? Very well, she could keep it. With any luck, her time in the village would endear it to her and she would forget about the vague time limit on the paper in her hands. It was an official contract signed by the Hokage, but it was only binding if she wanted it to be.

He smiled at her as she looked over the contract. “I hope this has satisfied you, my dear. Now, I’m afraid I need you to go over to the immigration office. Take this,” he handed her a scroll. “And show it to them. The process should be done by the end of the day, and I will have Sakumo-kun pick you up. Does that sound alright to you?”

He was asking as a courtesy, but she actually sniffed at him. “It’s something. I’ll see you around, head honcho.”

She turned and walked away, not even sparing him or his council a glance as she left the room.

Sakumo stepped in shortly afterward, his hand on her head as he pushed her down into a bow.

“Apologies, Hokage-sama.”

She echoed his words, clearly insincere, before ducking out of his grasp and escaping into the hallway with a cackle.

Hiruzen laughed at the White Fang’s beleaguered expression and waved for him to enter.

“So, tell me, Sakumo-kun, just what could possess that child to come to this village?”

* * *

“Excuse me. Is this immigration?”

Maito Dai looked up from the pile of paperwork on his desk. Well, it wasn’t really _his_ desk, but all the chunin who usually worked in this department were off supporting the war effort and the genin were left picking up the slack in the village. As one of the most senior genin, he was trusted with the incredibly important job of managing the Internal Affairs office.

Standing in the doorway was kid who could have stood in line with the Raikage’s regiment and blended right in. How strange for a Kumo child to immigrate to Konoha in the middle of a war. How _brave!_

Tears were already welling in Dai’s eyes as he thought of all the struggles she must have endured to come this far. Oh, the poor baby!

“I have a scroll,” she said, walking up to the desk with a hesitant smile. She was a real cutie! “Do I give it to you?”

“Let me see! If it’s not for me, I shall run a hundred laps around the village on my hands as punishment!”

She giggled at his antics, a fresh response after all the exasperated eyerolls he’d grown accustomed to. He unfurled the scroll and quickly read its contents.

“Well, how about that! It says here that you’re exempt from the mental clearance, so we can get this done today! How exciting! Right this way, little princess!”

She laughed again, the tinkling sound fueling him better than a ten course meal! She followed behind him as he led her into an interview room, making sure to leave a note on his desk in case anyone needed him.

“Alrighty! First things first, what’s your name?”

“Benihime.”

“Oh! I was right about the princess thing! How amazing! How is that written?”

She told him with a laugh, answering all his other questions with a smile as he filled out her forms for her, as was customary for minor applicants. Still, he hadn’t realized how minor! Yowza, she was tall! And from Taki! He kicked himself for making assumptions based only on her appearance and tasked himself with running those laps as punishment. He’d be sure to give Gai a lecture about judging books by their covers when he got home, too, to make sure the lesson didn’t end with him.

“Alright! So, next step, any living family in other villages we should know about?”

Her smile faded a little bit and she shook her head. “No. Not in a village.”

“Any family outside a village?”

She hesitated, a far away look glazing over her pale green eyes before she nodded. “Yeah. Do you have a bingo book?”

Oh, no. He fished his copy of the latest publication from his back pocket, the paper thinner than past editions due to war rationing.

She took it from him with a small thank you and skipped right to the back of the book, where the A and S rank shinobi were listed.

Oh, no.

She stopped on a page, pupiless eyes moving back and forth as she read what was printed there, before handing it back to him.

“That’s my great-grandfather.”

Dai felt a chill run down his spine as he looked at the entry for Kakuzu, the Immortal Bounty Hunter. How he’d earned that name wasn’t hard to guess. If he was her great-grandfather, he had to be at least seventy, right? To still be operating as a shinobi at that age took incredible skill.

“He doesn’t care about me, though,” she added, looking up at him with a desperate concern. “He won’t come looking for me or causing any trouble on my part, I swear!”

Well, given that she was applying for residency in Konoha instead of living a life of crime with him, that seemed pretty obvious. And sad. The only person in the world who should care for her was out wreaking havoc instead.

Dai tilted his head back to keep the tears from flowing. He was representing the village to a new immigrant! He couldn’t let his emotions get the best of him!

A few tears still escaped as he wrote in the name of her only relative. Usually, anyone who was even suspected of being involved with a criminal of C rank or higher was sent to T&I for a proper interrogation, but this was a kid! And the Hokage himself had signed off on her exemption, so it was probably fine.

“Last thing,” he said around the lump in his throat. “Anything to declare?”

The light came back to her eyes. She pulled her curls back from the side of her head, revealing delicate golden hoops with intricate designs along the bottom curve. “These are mine. They’ve been in my family for at least four generations.”

Dai wrote that in happily. How wonderful that she had ties to her family that weren’t criminal!

“This,” she pulled out a necklace from inside her too large black shirt, pulling apart the pendant there and tossing it into the air. It expanded, becoming a short stick maybe as long as her forearm which she caught with clear skill. Dai watched with loud praise as she twirled it in her hand. “Is the Nyoi Bo. It’s a living weapon that chooses its wielder. If anyone else tried to use it, they would _die_."

Dai wrote that in word for word, underlining the word ‘die’ many times to be sure it was noted.

“That’s a very nice weapon,” he said honestly. Her smile widened, revealing the cutest set of teeth he’d ever seen! Aside from Guy’s, of course.

“Thanks! It was my mom’s.”

He made note of that, too.

“And then there’s this.” She held out her hand, unfolding slender fingers and revealing a wooden ladybug charm sitting in the center of her pale palm. “It was a birthday present from the old man.”

“Old man? You mean your grandfather?”

She curled her lip. “Ew, no. That miser would never give anyone anything for free, not even me! This is from Sakumo!”

Ah! _Ah!_ He threw back his head and laughed at his old friend’s expense, the childhood nickname he thought long dead suddenly revived before his very eyes.

“That’s wonderful!” He said, not even bothering to stop the tears of happiness flowing from his eyes, this time. “He is a good friend to have!”

She returned his smile with one of her own, her cute little nose wrinkling. “He is! Oh! I almost forgot!” She reached behind her head, lifting the curls off her neck and pulling something out. “This is Mushi! He’s my best friend! Do I need to declare him?”

In her hands sat a large, living rhinoceros beetle. His horn was long and arched, the prong at the end widely parted. His carapace was a glistening black and he lifted his shell to buzz his wings at Dai in what he would always swear was a greeting.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mushi-san,” Dai said with a small bow. “And, no, best friends do not need to be declared!”

This was obviously a nin-animal of some sort. Those, as far as he knew, were not to be treated like normal imported animals under any circumstances.

“Yay!”

“Yay!”

_Buzz buzz!_


	29. No Money

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I ain't got no money  
> I'm not trying to be funny but I left it all at home today  
> You can call me what you wanna I ain't giving you a dollar  
> This time I ain't gonna run away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't update yesterday ｡ﾟ･ (>﹏<) ･ﾟ｡ I was driving all day and I didn't have the chance to write a chapter in advance! Today marks the last 'daily' update. I'm super thankful for the support you guys have given me thus far! This story might not be updated for another week or so after this, since the first two weeks in December are finals weeks. I'm gonna miss you (ಥ﹏ಥ)

Benihime waved happily back at Gai’s dad as she followed Sakumo out of the immigration office, the burly man returning her farewell exuberantly. He was fun. She liked him.

“Did you finish your paperwork?”

She looked up at Sakumo with a smile. “Yuppers! I’m a full blown citizen, now!”

He chuckled lowly. “Not yet, I’m afraid. There’re still a few things that need doing.”

He held open the door, letting in a blast of frigid air that set her teeth on edge. She’d never seen snow. Ever. In either life. It got pretty cold in the desert, but there wasn’t enough precipitation for snow to happen. The weather around the temple was temperate year round, so, despite the ridiculous amount of rain, it never got cold enough to turn it to snow. It was really pretty to look at, she admitted, but she was already shivering and she wasn’t even out there.

Mushi must be freezing!

She turned to Sakumo and raised her arms at him with a pout. He raised an eyebrow at her, the corner of his mouth twitching.

“What’s this?”

“I’m cold,” she whined. “And I don’t have shoes!”

He looked down at her bare feet and sighed tiredly, giving in to her grabby hands and crouching down in front of her.

Ha! Sucker.

She threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he hooked his arms under her knees. He stood, lifting her with ease and shifting his grip on her before stepping out into the winter cold. Mushi complained from his hiding place inside her hair, burrowing closer to the warmth of her scalp.

“Where are we going,” she asked, swinging her feet happily.

“To the hospital. All new immigrants are required to undergo a medical screening.”

She buried her face in his back, not at all happy with that. They wouldn’t be able to see her seal, would they?

**Not to worry. I’ll deal with it. You have more important concerns at the moment.**

Oh?

**You’re being followed.**

Tch. How unlucky.

Really, she kind of expected it. Things were going too smoothly. The old geezers in charge were probably trying to lull her into a false sense of security by letting her go through all this with as few hang ups as possible, all the while keeping a close eye on her from the shadows. Well, two could play at that game.

…

In the spring, when the beetles weren’t all hibernating.

**Hmph, I can do it. No need to get Mushi’s wings in a bunch.**

Awesome. How the heck did other jinchuriki function without their bijuu buddy front and center? She couldn’t fathom it.

Sakumo carried her through the snow, going much slower than necessary. She upped her shivering, hoping to trigger his parental instincts with her suffering child act, but he kept his steady pace. Tch.

She took the opportunity to actually look at the village. She’d arrived in a panic, after all, and hadn’t had the chance to sight see in the whirlwind of activity since saving Sakumo’s life. Far from the dreary, grey toned monotony a lifetime of American propaganda had led her to expect from a military dictatorship, it was actually pretty colorful. Blues, yellows, and reds all stood out against the stark white of the snow, reminding her of her cousin’s homes in rural Mexico. Except, you know, tall. It looked like Konoha grew upward instead of outward, precarious high rises leaning to one side or another and connected by lines of wire or planks of wood. There was scaffolding everywhere, even though there wasn’t a lot of visible construction. She imagined it probably made life easier for the shinobi in the village.

It had character, she’d give it that. Still, she preferred the mossy stone of her temple. It, at least, had already collapsed. Not like these buildings that looked like they would fall over at any second.

Plus, it wasn’t cold.

When Sakumo stepped through the automatic doors of the hospital—yay, technology!—the temperature didn’t really change. The doctor’s office was always cold, she knew, but did it have to be freezing? He set her down, ignoring her yelp as her feet touched the cold tile like the meanie he was to speak to the receptionist. Beni pointedly ignored the suspicious stares she was receiving from the handful of people in the lobby. Most of them were patients, she noted. There might be a shortage of doctors in the village, since they were all probably shinobi, too. War was a greedy thing.

A hand landed on her head and she scowled. Her hair was still a tangled mess from her desperate flight across an entire country and she hadn’t had time to fix it. She looked up at Sakumo and he chuckled at her expression, wisely taking his hand from her head.

“Come on, this way.”

She followed behind him, playing up the guileless child act as she took in her surroundings. The hospital was rather worse for wear. There was visible grime in the corners and she balked at ever receiving treatment there. Was that why so many shinobi in the show avoided it? She kinda understood now. Yucky.

Sakumo led her into a room, the walls and furniture all an aged off-white. Her first instinct was to jump right on the examination bed, but she stopped herself, instead following Sakumo’s lead and standing to one side. He raised an eyebrow at her, again, but said nothing.

It was several moments before someone wearing threadbare scrubs stepped inside the room. It was a woman, age lines just starting to show on her face. She looked a little surprised to see Beni, but she hid it well.

A friendly smile crossed her face. “Hello, you must be Benihime-chan. I am Sajime Hotaru, and I will be your doctor from now on. It’s nice to meet you.”

Benihime ducked behind Sakumo, purposefully widening her eyes at the newcomer. “My mother’s name was Hotaru.”

The smile on her doctor’s face didn’t falter. “Really? What a coincidence. Do you mind getting on the bed for me? I need to run some tests, but I promise none of them will hurt.”

Beni looked up to Sakumo for confirmation, only moving to comply at his nod. She’d been to a million doctor’s appointments, Before, but never in this life. Keiko was never afforded such a luxury, either. As far as Konoha was concerned, she was a feral child, just barely being introduced to civilized society. It wouldn’t do to come across as too knowledgeable. Also, she was, admittedly, kind of a bitch. That was on purpose, but showing a little vulnerability now would go a long way to avoiding trouble in the future.

She wasn’t in her temple, anymore, Toto—er, Mushi.

“I,” she declared loudly with the confidence only a child could get away with. “Have never been to the doctor, ever, in my life.”

Sajime’s smile finally slipped, a looked of horror growing on her face before she tried valiantly to hide it—and failed. Horribly.

“Really?” She asked, somewhat shakily. “Not even in your old village?”

“My old village would throw a party over a funeral if I kicked it,” Beni replied honestly. “My breeding is not to their standards.”

That explanation was horrifying, and it clearly had the intended effect. Both the adults reacted with varying degrees of anger and shock and Beni decided that was as far as she would go, today. She swung her legs off the side of the examination bed, watching as her doctor regained her composure.

“Alright, Benihime-chan,” she said through a decidedly thinner smile. “We’re going to start with a physical examination. I’m going to put my hands on you and you’ll probably feel my chakra, but that’s it. If anything feels strange or painful, let me know and I’ll stop immediately.”

A likely story.

So far, Sajime seemed like a nice enough person, but, given the entourage monitoring her every move, odds were she was a member of Danzo’s secret police. She’d scan Beni’s body and send back all the data she collected for her nefarious master.

Whatever. It wasn’t like he could use it for anything. Good luck replicating the effects of generational exposure to a fucking bijuu. She’d like to see Orochimaru’s take on _that_.

…

On second thought, no, she wouldn’t.

As expected, Sajime pressed her hands onto Beni’s back, the doctor’s chakra a cool mist that brushed up against her own. Beni was glad she didn’t have to strip, the black fabric of Sakumo’s shirt a welcome barrier between Sajime’s hands and the burning center of Choumei’s power.

The doctor sucked in a sharp breath and Sakumo crossed his arms over his chest.

“What is it,” he asked, tone brooking no argument.

Sajime’s chakra petered out as she removed her hands from Beni’s back. Her words faltered and Beni momentarily reconsidered her assumption about her Root status before concluding that her stammering could be an act.

“Her back,” Sajime said, at last. “It’s structured completely differently from a normal human’s. There are muscles and tendons I’ve never seen before—and they attach to nothing! I can only assume they are for the wings mentioned in her file.”

Of course, her wings were mentioned. She tossed a Look™ at Sakumo before shrugging off her irritation. She couldn’t be too harsh with him. He was a good little soldier. If his government weren’t so corrupt, that would be a good thing.

It was also pretty cool to hear about her body’s adaptations from a professional. But…why was her back structured for wings when hers weren’t permanent?

Choumei piped up and she listened to his explanation before sharing it with the adults in the room.

“It’s because I’m still a larva,” she said with as straight a face as she could manage. “Once I undergo my final metamorphosis, my wings will be permanent. For now, they’re an emergency measure and cost a lot of chakra.”

Sajime came to stand in front of Beni, picking up a clipboard and scribbling furiously. “Would you say this is part of your kekkei genkai? Most humans don’t have wings, you know.”

Yeah, she knew.

Could her abilities be considered a kekkei genkai, at this point? They’d be inherited by her children, right?

**Right.**

She nodded. “I guess, so.”

“Can you please tell me all the abilities that fall under your kekkei genkai? And its name, please.”

Yeah, no.

“I can communicate with beetles,” she said dryly. That ability was probably already in the doctor’s notes. “And I’ll have wings when I grow up. That’s it.”

Sajime nodded eagerly. “And its name.”

“It doesn’t have one.”

That drew her up short. “Oh, really?”

Beni shrugged. “I’m the only one left and no one ever told it to me. If it had a name, it doesn’t anymore.”

Yes, play up the tragedy. Look at the sadness in their eyes. Mwahahaha!

The doctor set aside her clipboard and cleared her throat. “Well, then, now that your physical is done, it’s time for your inoculations.”

 **Pointless,** Choumei grumbled. **You will never fall ill.**

Yeah, but they don’t know that. It’s for the disguise!

**You just want the candy they’ll give you when they’re done.**

Tch.

* * *

The candy was delicious and very much worth the bajillion needles she was stabbed with, thank you very much.

She hung off of Sakumo’s back again, still vey much unwilling to walk in the snow. She used one hand to hold on to him and the other to hold the stick of her lollipop. It was basically just sugar flavored, but it was still yummy! Definitely sweeter than anything she had back at the temple.

“Yo, Sakumo-senpai! That’s an interesting pack you’ve got there.”

Sakumo turned to look at the person who’d called out to him, bringing Beni along for the ride. Ooh! She recognized him!

“It’s the candy man!”

Chouji’s dad smiled at her, clearly not recognizing her. Of course, she hid from him and his friends when they visited her temple. Well, she knew how to jog his memory.

“Where are turtle food and whiny?”

That did it.

He threw back his head and laughed, looking very much like a jolly, redheaded Santa given the winter backdrop.

“I see,” he said, wiping a tear from his eyes. “So, you’re the girl from the temple. It’s nice to finally meet you, my dear.”

That endearment was a lot less grating coming from him than it was from the Hokage and she smiled widely up at him. He frowned.

“Where are your shoes?”

“I don’t have any!”

He frowned deeper.

“Why not? This is hardly the weather to be going barefoot.”

“It doesn’t snow back home! I don’t need shoes, so I don’t wear them!”

He looked very concerned. “Well, that’s no good. This isn’t even that cold. How’s about you come with me and we’ll get you set up for the winter?”

Score!

She was perfectly willing to run off with the giant Akimichi, but Sakumo shifted his weight away from his comrade. His hesitance didn’t go unnoticed.

“It’s alright, senpai. Your son will be getting out of school, soon, right? I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you. I can take her and have her back at your house by sun down, how does that sound?”

Great! Wonderful! Take me shopping!

“Ah,” Sakumo sighed. “I don’t know. She’s a bit—!”

He winced, his grip on her leg slackening in reaction to the knee in his ribs. It was an act, clearly, since a man of his reputation would never be caught off guard by a child he was carrying.

“A bit what?” She demanded. “Mind your words or I’ll sue you for slander!”

He gave a long, dramatic sigh before handing her over to his taller comrade. “Fine. I don’t want to hear any complaints, though.”

He disappeared, confirming her suspicions that he was walking in the snow just to torture her.

The Akimichi—Chouza? Was his name Chouza?—was much warmer than Sakumo and she delighted in her newly acquired human radiator.

They looked at each other, holding each other’s gazes for a long moment before Beni broke the silence.

“I have no money.”

He snorted, his whole body vibrating with the force of his mirth.

“That’s alright. I know a few people who can pitch in.”


	30. There's a Party in My Tummy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a party in my tummy.  
> (So yummy. So yummy.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? I had weeks and it's still the same length as the dailies? Yep. After writing a chapter that length every day, I have somehow trained myself to wrap up a scene in that much time. I'm struggling to write anything longer than 2k! 。゜゜(´Ｏ`) ゜゜。

Shikaku bounced his leg as he took a long sip of his tea. He squinted his eyes against the bright light reflecting off the snow outside and through the window of the teahouse. Not for the first time, he wished they had curtains.

“I wonder what’s taking Chouza so long,” Inoichi said, reaching across the table to refill Shikaku’s cup with all the grace one would expect from an accomplished oiran. “He’s not one to be late—especially when there’s food on the line.”

True, but Shikaku had already run through every possible scenario for his friend’s tardiness and come to the conclusion that it likely wasn’t anything serious. If it was, he and Inoichi would have been informed, as his teammates. No anbu or overworked genin had come running up to them, so it was probably nothing and the tallest of their group would be joining them soon. In the meantime, Shikaku would take the opportunity to bask in Inoichi’s relatively silent companionship and gain strength before Chouza’s more boisterous energy began to drain him. He loved his friend dearly, but he could be a bit much, at times. Given the choice, Shikaku would rather spend his rare time in the village at home before he was sent out into the field with his team, again, but not even that was sacred, anymore. The instant he crossed the threshold it was just yelling and yelling and—.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Chouza’s voice broke through the haze of bad memories, banishing a headache before it could take root. He looked up as his friend took a seat beside him, his considerable girth shifting the table and nearly spilling Inoichi’s tea. Shikaku opened his mouth to greet him, but his voice died in his throat as he met a pair of green eyes looking up at him from beside Inoichi.

Immediately, his mind began to run in all kinds of circles. Kumo—no, the coloring wasn’t quite right—a child, why was there a child—clothing much too thin, must be freezing—was that an _insect_?

It was. A very large one. Wait, that wasn’t the issue.

“What is this?”

The child furrowed shorts brows and pursed full lips before turning pupilless eyes on Chouza. “Yeah. What is this? You can’t just bring an outsider to a team hang out, Candyman. It’s what’s widely known as ‘a dick move’.”

Inoichi choked on the tea he was sipping in a pretense of disinterest. Chouza let out a loud, belly laugh and Shikaku mentally resigned himself to a draining morning.

“Ino, Shika,” Chouza said, wiping a genuine tear from his eye. “This is Benihime-chan. You might remember her from our little excursion into the ‘forest of nightmares’.”

What.

Shikaku turned new eyes on the child, taking in her every feature. So this was the one who—.

“Hey, turtle food, what’re you staring at? Have my stunning good looks bewitched you?”

Once again, Inoichi spat out his tea. The poor window beside them would need a vigorous wash before anyone else could sit at their table.

“What’s so funny, whiny? Care to share with the class?”

Shikaku turned to look out the splattered window, hiding the beginnings of a smile behind his teacup. Maybe she wasn’t so bad.

Although…

“So, what brings someone like you out to our part of the continent?”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Someone like me?”

He gestured at her clothing. “You’re from a warmer climate,” he gestured to the insect, “your companion, too,” he gestured to Konoha at large, “and you have a well recorded hatred for this village. Not to mention, our nation and yours are at war. There are a lot of reasons for you not to come here, so I’m curious what was big enough to override them.”

She cocked her head at him, golden hair falling into her face as she made a great show of thinking over her answer. Then, she smiled at him, revealing a set of startlingly white teeth. “No ♡.”

“What?”

She made a face and shrugged. “No, I won’t tell you. It’s none of your business.”

“You—!”

“Now, now,” Inoichi interjected, his face stretched in a somewhat strained smile. “This is no place to fight. I’m sure our guest has already reported to the Hokage, yes?”

“And immigration!”

“And immigration. And I’m sure _you_ ,” he fixed Shikaku with a stern look. “Already figured that out.”

Tch. It wasn’t his fault the kid was the most interesting thing to cross his path since he left her temple in the Land of Earth. She was a living puzzle.

“Benihime-chan has no winter clothes,” Chouza said, pitching his voice in the way that meant he wanted something. “She doesn’t even have shoes! In this weather! Sakumo-senpai was carrying her on his back and didn’t even bother to shunshin! I rescued her as soon as I could.”

From the look the girl was giving him, Chouza was full of shit. Still, she didn’t contradict him, choosing instead to play with her insect friend. Shikaku watched as she drummed long, elegant fingers on the tabletop, coaxing the giant beetle along with a cockeyed smile. How old had the reports said she was? Eight? Nine? She was certainly very tall for her age, but that was only by the Land of Fire’s standards. In Kumo—hell, even Kiri—a child her size would be well within the normal range. Her Iwa style kimono was a faded red and she was just starting to outgrow it. Looking at her hands and wrists where the sleeves came up short, he could practically count the bones through her gold toned skin.

He nudged Chouza in the side, raising a brow at him and jerking his chin. After so many years together, his friend accurately interpreted the movements and flagged down a waitress.

“What do you want to eat, Benihime-chan?” The Akimichi said with a smile. “It’s on me.”

She looked very excited for a moment, but her happiness wilted just as fast.

“I appreciate the offer,” she said quietly, suddenly very subdued. “But I’ve lived off a very restricted diet up ‘til now. I don’t want to get sick.”

That…was a very valid concern. Not one most children bothered with, to their detriment, but one he should have considered.

“I’m sure there’s something here that you can eat,” Chouza coaxed gently, pushing a menu her way. “What did you normally eat? Back in your temple, I mean.”

She picked up the menu and pursed her lips, looking through the sparse selection of meals served at the tea house. If they’d known about their unexpected guest in advance, they might have chosen a proper restaurant, instead, but alas. The kid would have to make do.

“Mostly rabbit,” she said idly. “Sometimes boar, if Roshi could catch one.”

“Boar!” Oh no. Chouza was officially invested. “Well, in that case, the nikuman should be right up your alley.”

Oh, thank the Sage. For a moment there, Shikaku was afraid they’d start swapping recipes. As much as Chouza teased him for being a spoiled rich boy who only ever saw his food once it was arranged on a plate, he had no desire to familiarize himself with the grittier parts of the culinary process. A shared glance proved that Inoichi was equally relieved to be spared the details of preparing wild pork.

The Ino-Shika-Cho team ordered their usual—Chouza a lot, Inoichi some, Shikaku nothing—and another round of tea. The girl got her own cup and made a face at the taste.

“It’s so sweet!”

Sweet? The fruity blend they were drinking certainly toed that border, with strong notes of orange and rosehip. It was often served to children to warm them against the winter chill, but even then it was usually sweetened further.

“Oh, really?” Inoichi said over his own cup, no doubt thinking along the same lines. “And here I thought I’d need to ask for some sugar.”

“I’ve never eaten sugar,” she said almost proudly, looking at her fellow pupilless blond with disdain. "Aside from the candy you guys gave me, of course.”

That…was actually a little sad. Even with the war rations, certain kinds of sweets were still in production, if only for the sake of the children and some elderly who needed help with their sugar. If Chouza’s one time gift was her only experience with confectionary, then it made sense that the delicate flavor of the tea would seem sweet to her.

“We can order a bitter one, if you like,” he told her. “I need a bit of a pick me up, myself.”

She looked like she might say yes, then shook her head. “No, it’s ok. I just wasn’t expecting it.” She took another sip and her face didn’t quite seize, but it was a close thing. She valiantly swallowed it down, smiling grimly at them.

“So,” Inoichi said around a smile. “Can I ask why Chouza kidnapped you?”

At just that moment, the waitress returned with their meals, placing a plate piled high with steamed pork buns right in front of the girl. They must have portioned it for an Akimichi. She wasted no time biting into a piping hot bun, immediately huffing and puffing around a mouthful of freshly cooked meat. Chouza laughed then promptly followed suit, chasing a scalding bite of his own nikuman with a steaming gulp of tea.

“I brought little Benihime-chan along because she looked cold,” Chouza said after thoroughly burning his mouth. “And I might have promised to get her a set of proper winter clothes.”

“He said you guys would help, too!”

“Traitor!”

“Mmph mmphmm phmm!”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Inoichi scolded her gently before turning to his friend and teammate. “Volunteering our time and money again, eh Cho?”

“Mmrph phrmmphrm mph—.”

“Not you, too. Chouza, we’ve been over this.”

“Mng mphrphl mphnrng.”

Shikaku took a sip of his tea and watched as Chouza and his not so little guest began a conversation of food filled nonsense, Inoichi holding his head in his hands as he gave up all semblance of a poker face. Turning to look out the window, Shikaku sighed with content. This might actually turn out to be a good day.


	31. Temporary Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is my temporary home  
> It's not where I belong  
> Windows in rooms that I'm passin' through  
> This is just a stop, on the way to where I'm going  
> I'm not afraid because I know this is my  
> Temporary home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I've lost my grip on Beni's character in the time since I last wrote for her. Is she too bitchy? I want her to be free and liberal with her criticisms, but not outright mean. Let me know your thoughts.
> 
> Translations for this chapter:  
>  _Metiche _: a nosy person_  
>  _Chisme _: gossip  
>  _Qué Pobres Tan Ricos _is a Mexican telenovela. I used to watch it with my uncle. :)_____

Beni twisted to and fro, eyeing her reflection in the full body mirror. Red high waisted pants were tucked into tall, black winter boots, Mushi already nestled in one of the deep pockets. A puffy red vest with a high, fur lined collar was layered on top of a black, long sleeved thermal shirt. She was a million times warmer now than she was in the threadbare red kimono.

And a bazillion times cuter, hot damn!

The sacred pool in Choumei’s temple wasn’t exactly the most reflective surface—evil turtle of doom aside. Now that she could actually see her face in proper detail, she finally understood the phrase ‘dynasty ending beauty’. Holy _fuck_ , but she was cute. Raphael missed out on the perfect cherub. She was a little on the thinner side, but her cheeks were still round with youth, her pale green eyes standing out against her warm, sunblessed skin. The melanin gods hadn’t held anything back when making her, had they?

She spun in place, fluffing up her curls and admiring the contrast between the brilliant gold of her hair and the glorious amber of her skin. Her ties to Kumo were obvious, but, she arrogantly decided, even Kumo would be hard pressed to find a kid as lucky as her. The genetic lottery’s bias was written in her skin for all the world to see.

“Well, Benihime-chan,” Chouza began with an indulgent smile. “What do you think?”

She looked up at him with a wide, toothy grin. “I think I’m cute as shit!”

Shikaku tried—and failed—to swallow his laughter, a hideous, painful sounding snort escaping him. Inoichi smiled, his chuckle as much for her words as his friend’s reaction to them. Behind him, a store employee looked on with a vapid smile, eyes blank in that weird way only a retail worker could really achieve. This was a larger shop than Beni was expecting to be taken to, with several employees and even other customers. They all gave her serious side eye, but she was more than happy to ignore them. She was a foreigner in a time of war, and the animosity between Konoha and Kumo went back practically to the foundation of the village system. A little suspicion was to be expected. The employees were polite, if a little cold, so it was whatever.

“What do you want to do with this, then?” Chouza held out her old kimono. “Do you want me to get rid of it for you?”

“No!” She took it from him and held it to her chest, defending it from the threat of destruction. “Nii-san stole it just for me!”

Shikaku really needed to let himself laugh. That snort was giving Beni second hand sinusitis.

“So, this is where you were!”

The entire shop fell suddenly silent, customers and employees alike turning to look askance at the women who stormed through the doorway, the little bell above the door ringing in protest. Beni recognized one of them as the Uchiha woman who’d come by her temple with her asshole boyfriend, but her friend was a stranger.

And a good thing, too. She was livid, thin eyebrows furrowed deeply over fiery dark eyes. She…she was also heading right for Beni’s group?

**Ooh~, it looks like we’re gonna see something fun!**

Beni looked up at the adults around her and found their expressions utterly devoid of the mirth they were just wearing. Instead, they looked very on edge, almost like Roshi when Sakumo first came to the temple. Shikaku, especially, looked stiff and uncomfortable, his slouch a purposeful affectation.

The angry woman came right up into Shikaku’s face, a finger jabbing into his chest and rocking him back on his heels.

“You told me you were doing a team building exercise! What is this? Huh? Since when is _shopping_ a team building exercise?”

Something fun. Right.

**Hey, who was it who spent all their time watching telenovelas?**

Oi! _Qu_ _é_ _Pobres Tan Ricos_ was a good show! Plus, all the people in soap operas were fake and the melodrama payed up for entertainment value. This was just…

Icky.

“Are you blind or stupid?”

The woman froze mid tirade, blinking owlishly as she apparently noticed Beni for the first time.

“What?”

Beni made a big show of looking her up and down before scoffing. “Stupid. Got it.”

The Uchiha stepped up, face set in a placating expression as she once again put herself into a mediator role.

“Hey, now, there’s no need for insults,” she said, looking down at Benihime with a kind, if confused, smile. “It’s nice to see you again, kunoichi-chan. How have you been?”

Beni shrugged. “As well as I can be, now that I’ve officially joined forces with my own colonizers. And you? Dumped that dumpster fire of a man, yet?”

She did a good job smothering her discomfort, but her eyes tightened minutely. “Aha, no.”

“Tch.” Beni looked from one woman to the other and sighed dramatically. “I don’t know what kind of bullshit your parents fed you, but you can’t raise a man. He is what he’s always gonna be at this point, so if you don’t like it don’t buy it. Besides,” she said, ignoring the flabbergasted expressions on all the adults’ faces to gesture at the Ino-Shika-Cho. “His teammates are right here, lady. What? Does he need to submit a daily schedule and never deviate? That’s hella controlling, you know. Very unhealthy behavior.”

**Boo! Why’d you stop her?**

Uh, because the nagging wife trope is gross and boring? Because she could distinctly remember how Shikamaru and his father dreaded being around the lady of the house? Or…was that fanon?

Whatever, this lady was a bitch.

The bitch lady clearly had things to say, but she couldn’t get them out, her mouth opening and closing repeatedly as she struggled for words. Beni opened her own mouth to continue berating her, but a heavy hand on her shoulder had her looking up.

“That’s enough, kid,” Shikaku said with a sigh and the ghost of a smile. “I appreciate the support, but I did say I’d see her today.”

**Boo! Why’d he stop you?**

… _Metiche._

**Hey! Do you know how long I’ve gone without any proper drama? It’s not like Taki has a booming soap opera industry, you know!**

Why was a primordial chakra monster whining like a _t_ _ía_ desperate for the latest round of _chisme_?

Sighing, Beni put on a smile for Shikaku’s sake. “Ok. If you say so.” If she layered her acceptance with a heavy dose of skepticism, well, who could blame her?

As Shikaku let himself be dragged out into the snow, his teammates shifting their weight awkwardly. The Uchiha lady bowed slightly before leaving the store, too. 

Hrm.

Beni turned to the long suffering retail worker overseeing their group and held out her hand. “Bill please!”

With that, life returned to the shop, the other customers slowly returning to their own conversations now that the show was over.

“Ah!” Inoichi turned to look at the door with a scandalized scowl. “He left us with the bill!”

The tension lingering in the air was officially gone after that as Chouza laughed. “Don’t worry about it. This was my idea, anyway, so I’ll get it.”

Beni followed close behind the tall Akimichi as he payed for her clothing, looking curiously at the colorful bills he handed over to the cashier.

“How much was it?”

He smiled down at her. “Don’t worry about it, Benihime-chan. A child shouldn’t have to worry about things like this.”

He was right, but still. “How much? I’ll pay you back.”

He ignored her, tucking the receipt into a pocket with a wink. She narrowed her eyes at him.

**Just accept it. It’s not like he’s a loan shark or something.**

No. She couldn’t do that. It was bad enough she’d resigned herself to working within the stupid system she hated so much. She wasn’t about to let herself be in anyone’s debt, too. Things that were given could be taken away or used to guilt her into shit she didn’t want to do. If she let this slide, she was only opening herself up to more debts and the chance that she might be used by people less kind than Chouza.

“Please,” she beseeched him, tugging on his clothing as they stepped out into the cold. “I don’t like owing people.”

He and Inoichi exchanged a meaning laden glance. With a sigh, he crouched down so their eyes were on the same level. “Benihime-chan, the say I see it, this village is the one that owes you. Just take it as a down payment, ok?”

She shook her head, teeth digging into her bottom lip. “You’re not the one who owes me, your government is. I—.”

“Benihime-chan,” Inoichi’s tone and expression were stern and she couldn’t help but feel like she was being scolded. “If it bothers you that much, just take it as a welcome gift for joining the village, ok?”

Benihime looked from one adult to the other, reading the tension in their shoulders and the way Inoichi was carefully eyeing the other pedestrians on the street.

Ah. So Konoha was a _dictatorship_ dictatorship. An ‘insult the government in the privacy of your own _mind_ and mysteriously disappear’ kind of dictatorship. Right. Ok.

She hadn’t forgotten about the people tailing her, but she hadn’t really thought about what they might be tailing her _for_ , beyond her questionable loyalties. The fewer excuses Danzo had to involve himself and his goons in her life, the better.

“Fine,” she said with an exaggerated pout, crossing her arms over her chest for emphasis. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

The men relaxed, but Beni made a mental note to repay Chouza somehow in the future.

Chouza stood back up and rolled his shoulders back, for a moment looking very much like the tank he was instead of the lovable candyman she’d gotten to know so far. Then he smiled and he was a red headed Santa, again.

“How’s about we head over to the Hatake compound? I’m sure Sakumo-senpai is worried about you. Plus, you’ll be able to meet his son! Little Kakashi-kun could use a few more friends.”

It was awfully nice of him to frame it like she wasn’t also in need of friends. Once again, she was reminded of why Chouji was one of her favorite characters.

“Ok!”

She resisted his attempt to pick her up, this time, instead taking the chance to test out her new boots. They were…restricting, to say the least. After so many years running around barefoot, she was unaccustomed to the enclosed sensation. Sure, they were warm, but she wasn’t sure she really liked them.

They were cute, though.

She skipped along, kicking up fluffy snow. Now that she wasn’t trying to escape it, it was pretty fun! Maybe she’d get the chance to actually build a snowman!

In her pocket, Mushi buzzed his wings. Oops. Poor little buddy was getting rocked all over the place. She calmed herself down, restraining her movements so her bestest buddy could sleep.

* * *

Kakashi did not hold his father’s hand as they walked home. He hadn’t expected Sakumo to be waiting for him when he left the Academy, but it wasn’t an unpleasant surprise. At least, not until he caught wind of the whispers the other parents were exchanging. His father’s formerly indominable reputation was still in tatters, it seemed, his failure not yet pardoned or atoned for. One glance at Sakumo’s subdued posture and the shadows in his smiling eyes told Kakashi all he needed to know about his father’s place in the village.

How far the mighty had fallen. Kakashi could vividly remember his father as he was before that critical failure, standing tall and parting crowds with his presence alone. How terrible was his father’s crime if he couldn’t even hold his head high, anymore? That he didn’t even try to defend himself?

Looking at the way Sakumo shrank away from people who’d once greeted him with smiles, Kakashi reaffirmed his decision to place any future missions above any other priorities. The repercussions for doing otherwise were too severe.

“Oh, Sakumo-senpai! And Kakashi-kun, too!”

The next Clan Head of the Akimichi waved them down, approaching them with a wide, sincere smile. He was accompanied by the next Head of the Yamanaka Clan, his greetings just as kind and welcoming as his teammate’s. These two and their missing third, the Nara heir, never treated Sakumo with the disdain that other shinobi did, but they were less…relaxed when speaking to him. As Kakashi saw it, they owed his father a certain degree of respect as the Head of the Hatake Clan, but it was a bitter courtesy. Why else would they be so tense?

Kakashi stiffened, his body overcome by the sudden sense of being observed. Pupiless pale eyes found his and held them, looking into his soul, judging him and finding him wanting. Their owner wasn’t like any person he’d ever seen before, from coloring to the arrangement of features. No, that wasn’t true. He’d seen someone like this before, just not in person.

“Is this a prisoner from Kumo?”

He felt his father stiffen beside him, the White Fang unable to fully suppress the sharp intake of breath that signaled his surprise. The two shinobi on either side of the foreign interloper looked down at him, not even bothering to try hiding their shock.

Their young companion just raised one short eyebrow at him, expression thoroughly unimpressed. “I’m from Taki, you xenophobic fuck.”

“Beni-chan,” Sakumo sighed, more inflection in his voice than Kakashi had heard in a long time. “He didn’t mean—.”

“Yes, he did,” _Beni-chan_ dared to interrupt, snorting as she turned scornful eyes onto Kakashi. “If broad generalizations and stereotypes are all your academy teaches your children about the world outside your Village, Old Man, then I don’t think I wanna go.”

Kakashi seethed as his father reached out and placed a gloved hand on the older girl’s head, ruffling the golden curls his sensei had indeed insisted were the hallmark of Lightning’s population.

“Don’t take it to heart, Beni-chan,” Sakumo said with a smile. “He’s still learning.”

She clicked her tongue. “I’ll forgive him for your sake, then.”

“How magnanimous of you.”

Kakashi watched this interaction with narrowed eyes. The tension his words had put into the air was gone, now, replaced by warm smiles and indulgent laughter. The dogged expression on Sakumo’s face had melted into one reminiscent of how he’d looked at Kakashi before his colossal failure. The Kum— _Taki_ girl smiled happily— _familiarly_ —at his father, Sakumo responding in kind.

What was this?

She noticed his staring—not that he was trying to hide it—and smiled at him, a baring of teeth that set his own on edge.

“Careful, Old Man,” she chided— _chided_ —his father, stepping back and out of range of his suddenly affectionate hands. “Your offspring is getting jealous.”

What? No, he wasn’t.

…How could she tell?

Sakumo’s entire body froze. It only lasted an instant, but Kakashi noticed it, and noticed the awkward way his father reached out to ruffle his own hair, too, the movement stiff and disjointed.

“Ah, sorry, Kakashi. I forgot to tell you.”

She huffed a laugh, fogging the cold air with her mirth. “Did you, though? Or did you procrastinate?”

His father sighed, _again_. “Beni-chan, please. Let a man have a little dignity.”

She cocked her head to one side, her full lips curling into a slow, wicked smile, harsh winter sunlight glinting off crooked eyeteeth that bitterly called to mind the fangs hidden beneath Kakashi’s mask. “I didn’t realize you’d given me the power to take it.”

Kakashi looked up as the Yamanaka inhaled slowly through his nose, the tall blond carefully looking away as he tried to stifle an obvious bout of laughter. Sakumo chuckled dryly, returning his hand to the place it clearly preferred to be and pulling her golden curls out of her face.

“Alright, little miss clever, let me see what these two put you in. Go on, spin.”

She did so, holding her hands out and posing with an infuriating smirk on her face.

Sakumo hemmed and hawed for a long moment before holding up a thumb in approval, summoning his inner Dai. “Very good! It suits you!”

“I know,” she said airily, flipping her curls back over one shoulder. “I look good in anything.”

The adults all laughed at her display and Kakashi could no longer restrain himself.

“Who are you?”

“Kakashi,” his father chastised him, dark eyes brimming with disappointment. “Watch your tone.”

Of course, Kakashi should have known his father would pick up on the growl undergirding his question, his anger and confusion expressing themselves in the basest way possible. If not for his mask, he’d be baring his teeth, too.

The girl clearly wasn’t able to detect such subtleties as she took no offense from his behavior. She just smiled at him, the expression condescending and sarcastic.

“It’s fine,” she said with shrug. “It’s not his fault you didn’t tell him anything. My name is Benihime.” She held out a hand to him and he stared at it in confusion before she retracted it with a sniff. “I just moved to Konoha, so I don’t know a lot of people. I met your dad while he was on a mission in the Land of Earth, so he’s one of the only people I know here.”

…Why did it sound like she was trying to reassure him? Did he seem so insecure?

How insulting.

Before he could rebut her, his father growled in warning. It was low and the others likely couldn’t hear it, but Kakashi choked on his words.

“Beni-chan will be staying with us for the foreseeable future.” Sakumo’s voice was affable but firm, allowing his son no room to argue. “I expect you to be a proper host, understand?”

What?

Kakashi stared up at his father with open mouthed confusion, grateful for the mask that obscured his face. He couldn’t be serious.

“You can’t be serious.”

Benihime crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes up at Sakumo, brushing off the confusion of the adults around her like so much dirt.

“I don’t know where you got that idea, Old Man,” she said with tangible derision. “But I’m not your problem. If anything, you’re mine. I came here all by myself, after making my own decisions, the consequences of which are also mine. I get it. I do. I’m the cutest little orphan you ever did see and the urge to smother me in unsolicited parenting must be great, but you must resist. You have a perfectly good mini-you right there,” she gestured at Kakashi, giving him a smile that set him right back on his guard. “And, let me just say, treating a literal foreigner better than your own children is a bad look.”

A wave of unease washed over the gathered shinobi, even Kakashi feeling its weight. Benihime was unbothered, though, and simply held Sakumo’s gaze expectantly, her pupiless eyes sparkling with some malicious light that Kakashi was very sure he hated.

“What do you know?” His words broke the awkward tension. “How my father treats me is none of your business.”

Those eyes turned to him, the corner of her full lips curling upward as she took his measure. “You’re right. But how he treats me is. I have no interest in ingratiating myself to anyone in this village any more than strictly necessary,” this last bit was addressed to the adults, more than to Kakashi, but she didn’t look away from him, her smug expression infuriating him further with every passing second. “Having already been clothed and fed, I would much rather not add housed to that list. I have spent the whole of my life living off the land and I assure you, a roof is not a necessity for survival.”

Having just completed a week long field training exercise, Kakashi quite agreed, but the adults clearly did not.

“Beni-chan,” his father pleaded with her, kneeling in the snow and lowering himself before her. “You know you don’t have to do that, right? Konoha isn’t like your temple. You’ll freeze. Just take it as me owing you a debt, alright?”

“You do owe me,” she said with a curl of her lip. “But if you think I’m gonna let you dictate how that debt is repaid, then you are sorely mistaken. In fact,” she turned to the two third of the Ino-Shika-Cho who were standing behind her, very concerned expressions on their faces. “You can bill him the cost of my food and clothing. I’ll consider it a down payment.”

“Benihime,” Sakumo’s tone was sterner now and Kakashi instinctively straightened, years of training under that voice triggering an automatic response. “This isn’t something you can joke about. You have no experience with weather like this.”

“Then I guess I need to earn some, don’t I?”

“Benihime!”

Oh. His father was angry. Kakashi had very few memories of his father’s anger, most of them distant and directed at something other than him, and thus not his concern. Frustration was more familiar, exasperation, too. This anger, visible on Sakumo’s face and audible in the sub-tonal growl only Kakashi could hear, was new. And confusing.

Why was he getting angry over a child throwing her non-existent weight around when he’d never so much as bristled at the insults hurled his way? He let himself be backed into verbal corners, torn down by the village he’d sacrificed so much for, but this, _this_ was what made him snap?

“Listen, Sakumo- _chan_ ,” Benihime sneered, her teeth bared in a facsimile of a smile. “There are two beings in this universe who can tell me what to do, and you’re neither. So, be a good little soldier, and march away.” She made a shooing motion with her hands. “ _I_ am going to make myself at home, far away from you. Toodles.”

She disappeared, her shunshin leaving a swirl of snow in her wake. Kakashi watched as his father deflated, anger replaced by something he couldn’t name. Sakumo held his head in his hands, kneeling there in the snow like a beggar in the street.

Kakashi wasn’t sure what just happened, but he knew he didn’t like it.

* * *

Benihime leapt from one snow heavy branch to the next, following Choumei’s advice as she searched the forest for a place to set up camp. She felt a little guilty about how she’d handled the situation with Sakumo, but she couldn’t imagine doing it differently. He was all lovey-dovey with her while Kakashi stood right there, watching. What the fuck, man? She didn’t need to be a parent to know that was fucked up. Her anger on the adorably tiny Kakashi’s behalf may have played a large part in her bitchy behavior, but she’d never planned to live with Sakumo, in the first place. As far as she was concerned, her residency in Konoha was temporary, so letting herself be corralled into a permanent residence was _no bueno._ Plus, she meant what she said about debts. Sakumo, as cool and nice as he was, was still a servant of the state. As such, any care he gave her was essentially on behalf of the state and became something Danzo and his asshole buddies could hold over her head.

If she could avoid giving her enemies ammunition to shoot her with, she would, not matter how much of a bitch she had to be to do it.

 **Everyone is sleeping,** Choumei groused. **Winter is a bad time for us. Even you will start to feel it, if you haven’t already.**

Well, fuck.

Why didn’t he say so _before_ she ran off into the winter wonderland of doom?

**Well, you were on a roll. The look on his face was priceless!**

Ugh. How unlucky was she, stuck with a drama addicted bug in her brain?

**Technically, I’m in your back.**

Ugh.

**Ooh, watch out. Your fans have caught up with you.**

Ah, yes, her tagalongs. She’d almost forgotten about them. Well, if she did freeze to death, as Sakumo was so sure she would, then at least her corpse would be discovered quickly.

**You know I will literally kill everyone if you die, right? That’s a thing that happens when jinchuriki die.**

…

She landed on the branch of a tree, looking out on the snow covered forest. Her new clothing was certainly warmer than her old kimono, but it wasn’t designed for prolonged exposure. Already, the chill was seeping through the fabric and into her bones. A small part of her was starting to regret running away from Sakumo.

**There’s a place up ahead which should be warm enough. Insect activity hasn’t completely stopped, at least.**

That was…encouraging. She followed the bijuu’s directions and found herself looking at the corpse of a monstrous tree. The deciduous giant was lying on its side, parts of its trunk caved in where rot had weakened it and the wood collapsed under its own incredibly weight. Benihime walked along its length, unsure of how it might be turned into a shelter. Was she…supposed to crawl inside? Like the larva Choumei said she was?

**Yep.**

…

Could she say no?

Choumei laughed at her expense. **In a tree this size, there should be a few holes big enough for you to sleep in for a night or two, at least until we find something better. It beats freezing, right?**

Barely.

Ah, she was the unluckiest kid in the universe. She should have just stayed at the temple. Kakashi turned out ok enough to become Hokage, after all. She didn’t need to get involved.

**That’s what I said, but you didn’t listen. Decisions have consequences, remember?**

Tch. Unlucky.

Having her own words thrown back at her had her stubbornly setting her jaw. Fine. She would sleep in the log. It was warm enough for the bugs she could sense inside, so it was warm enough for her. Never mind that the warmth was a byproduct of decomposition. Blegh.

Choumei was right. There was a large cavity further down the tree, though she had to crawl through a narrow opening to get to it. Insects and a few small animals scattered as she invaded their space, making their displeasure known through a cacophony of hisses and chirps.

“Sorry,” she said with a duck of her head. “Sorry, I’m just cold. I won’t bother you guys.”

The creatures that understood her—surprisingly more than just the beetles—calmed down, and that helped the others relax, too. The inside of the tree was dark, and a little stuffy, but it was worlds warmer than the snowscape outside, and that was good enough for her. She found a spot that was relatively critter free and took a seat, settling her back against the mulchy wall.

Mushi crawled out of her pocket, investigating their new abode with his antennae.

_Staying? Larva staying?_

“For now, Mushi,” she said with a tired sigh. “For now.”


	32. Another Brick in the Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't need no arms around me  
> And I don't need no drugs to calm me  
> I have seen the writing on the wall  
> Don't think I need anything at all  
> No, don't think I'll need anything at all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, after being tagged right from the beginning, Obito makes his debut!

A fresh layer of snow lay across the forest, delicate ice crystals catching the early morning sunlight and sparkling like a million tiny diamonds. Bird song echoed through the trees, the sound carrying further without a canopy to smother it. On the ground, nothing moved, the large predators which gave the forest its ill omened name still sleeping.

Well, most of them.

The monochrome landscape was suddenly blessed with a spot of color as a human child burst out from beneath the snow, hands raised high above her head as she stretched and let out an obnoxious screech. Small animals previously disguised by snowy white camouflage abandoned their cover as they ran from the massive lump that was the fallen tree. The child climbed out of the snow, standing on top of the ancient arboreal corpse and brushing rapidly melting snow from her golden hair and bright red clothing. Then, she cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled.

“Good morning, creepy neighbors!”

If there were humans around to hear her, they gave no indication of their presence.

She huffed, not really expecting a response but disappointed all the same. “Whatever. I don’t need neighbors, anyway.”

She jumped down, landing atop the fresh snow without sinking, her weight supported by the chakra she instinctively channeled to her feet. Folding her hands behind her head, she left the forest behind, her gait unhurried and her expression unconcerned. Far above her, silhouettes indistinguishable from the dark branches of the naked trees, her ‘neighbors’ tracked her path, eyes obscured by the porcelain masks which set them apart from the rest of their Village.

**They’re still there.**

Yeah, she knew. And she wanted them to know she knew. Wanted _him_ to know she knew. It might have been better to keep her awareness a secret, to hide it away until she could weaponize it against him, but that wasn’t her nature. She’d lived an entire life shrinking away from conflict, masking her true feelings for the sake of the people around her. Maybe it was because she’d lived so long alone, and then with a man as abrasive and outspoken as Roshi, but she didn’t have it in her to pretend like that, again.

It was ironic, really. Once again, she found herself in a position where other people were invested in her body and how she used it, determined to force her into a mold that her very soul rejected. While she was immensely grateful that, this time, she could actually stand to look at herself, the weight of outside expectations was icky and gross and way too familiar.

Even Sakumo, who she knew cared about her in some capacity, had ideas about how she should live her life, where she should live it, and for whom. Memories of her own father, a living caricature of machismo who scowled at the merest hint of effeminate behavior, had her fleeing out of his range as fast as she could.

She leapt up onto the fence surrounding the Forest of Death, sighing as she looked out onto the Village. There were things she needed to do if she was really going to live there. Roles she had to accept and play to the best of her ability.

Ugh. Why did she come here, again? She missed Roshi.

“I’m not a coward!”

The voice echoed across the snowy field, snapping Beni from her musings. It was high pitched and angry, clearly a child’s. What were children doing out near the training grounds so early in the morning?

“Oh, yeah?” Another voice demanded. “Then prove it! The Forest of Death is full of monsters and man eating beasts, but my brother says most of them hibernate in winter. If you can spend a whole hour in there without getting eaten, then we’ll leave you alone.”

**Ho. Is that bullying I hear?**

It sure sounded like it.

Beni stood and walked along the top of the fence toward the voices. It wasn’t long before she came across a group of children, their dark clothing in stark contrast to their winter backdrop. From where she stood, she could easily pick out the red and white fan that heralded the Uchiha Clan.

Wow. So, they were born assholes. Good to know.

Three taller children stood facing a smaller one, cornering their target in classic bully formation. The leader put their nose in the air with a huff.

“I bet you can’t even manage ten minutes. The Anbu will hear you crying and come rescue you, like the coward you are.”

“Shut up,” the victim yelled, falling for the instigation without a second thought. “I can do it! And when I do, you’ll have to apologize!”

“Come on, kid, ask for more than that.”

The sneer on the lead bully’s face slipped as the group all looked up at Beni where she stood on the top on the fence. Confronted with an outsider, the antagonists looked a lot less confident. Beni jumped down, landing lightly on the snow beside the littlest Uchiha. She pointedly didn’t look at him, instead meeting and holding the bully’s gaze, using her superior height to her advantage.

“I heard the whole thing,” she said with a smile. “And I’m willing to stand as witness to the bet, as an unbiased party. Still,” she shrugged, rolling her neck and popping the joint in a display of disinterest. “An apology hardly seems like a proper prize, considering the very real chance of death involved.”

“Who are you?”

She looked at the boss bully evenly. “You mean you don’t know? Huh. You must not be very important if the Clan hasn’t told you.”

The kid bristled, her insult landing exactly as intended. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Beni let herself smile. Was this what normal kids were like? Han was younger than her, but still very mature. She was hardly a proper example, but she knew she wasn’t the most mature person, herself. Even so, these kids were…predictable. Annoying, predictable babies.

“Well?” She turned to the kid she was defending, taking in his wide eyes and the orange goggles perched on his head. “You’re the one risking your life. You should demand something more valuable than an apology.”

The child looked uncertain, shifting their weight from foot to foot, the snow caving beneath them while their kinsmen stood atop it without issue. So, this one was either younger or lesser skilled than their bullies, or both.

“Then,” they began, voice trembling with emotion. “You have to fix baa-chan’s roof! You’re the ones who broke it, anyway!”

“Tch,” the taller kids all looked away, clearly guilty but unwilling to admit it. “Whatever.”

Beni crossed her arms over her chest, leveling a glare at the group. “Good. Then I’ll witness it.”

“We don’t even know who you are,” one of them groused beneath the cover of their scarf. The other two nodded in agreement, looking at her suspiciously.

“Me?” Beni shook her head while clicking her tongue, once again setting them on edge. “Ask Mikoto. Maybe, if you’re important enough, she’ll tell you.”

She was glad she finally managed to remember the Uchiha woman’s name. Something about it nagged at her, though. Was she an important character?

“You know the Clan Head’s fiancée?”

Oh. _Oh._ Fuck.

“Yep,” she replied, hopefully concealing the panic rising in her at the notion that she might have erased fucking _Sasuke_ from existence. “I know her stupid boyfriend, too. And they’ll both believe me when I tell them all about this bullshit you’re trying to pull.”

The bullies were starting to look a little green around the gills, but their leader didn’t back down.

“Fine,” they spat. “But none of that matters if he fails.”

“I won’t,” the smallest kid there insisted. “Just you wait, Sora! I’ll prove I’m not a coward!”

With that, the child turned around and stomped through the snow toward the fence. Beni watched as he managed to squeeze through a hole, disappearing into the trees as the Forest swallowed him whole. Then, she turned back to the group, all pretense of kindness gone from her face. She stepped toward them and they stepped back, sensing some of the danger she could easily be, if she wanted to. The leader even fell, landing on his ass in the snow.

With a derisive snort, she shunshined away, running back into the Forest she only just left.

The Uchiha was still marching around, cute face scrunched in the most adorable expression of determination Beni had ever seen. She came to walk next to him, her boots leaving no impression on the snow.

“So,” she began, smiling as they jumped in response to her voice. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Why do you want to know?”

She raised her hands, surprised by their defensive tone. “Hey, chill. I’m on your side. Those brats are assholes. My name’s Benihime, if it helps.”

The kid turned to look at her, dark eyes considering. “I’m Obito.”

Well…fuck.

This…this _baby_ was the miniboss? But…he was so precious! So tiny and demanding protection! How could he possibly turn out so evil?”

**Madara.**

Oh, yeah. She forgot.

A fire lit itself in her gut as she looked at the adorable child in front of her, his expression scrunched even further as she took so long to respond.

She had a new reason to stay.

“Ah, wait,” she shook her head to clear it, setting aside that revelation for later. “You _are_ a boy, right?”

He looked at her like she was insane. “Obviously, yeah!”

“It’s not, though,” she replied with a shrug, once again placing her hands behind her head as she took the lead. “Kids all look the same at our age. Clothes don’t mean anything. Plus,” she turned on her heel and began walking backward, raising an eyebrow at him. “We’re shinobi. What we see isn’t always the truth.”

He stewed on that for all of a second, accepting her words with an ease only a child could boast. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

Wonder of wonders. Now, if only the adults in her old world could be so accepting.

“So,” the future Mizukage said sheepishly, scratching at his cheek. “Are you a girl, then?”

Ah, she’d set herself up for that one.

Ignoring the pang of past dysphoria his question brought up, she smiled at him. “Yep.”

“Oh.”

The air between them was suddenly awkward and Beni floundered for a way to fill the silence.

“So, Tobi,” she began only to immediately falter. Wrong name, _shit_. “Does this happen often? The bullying, I mean?”

He didn’t seem too off put by the sudden nickname she’d thrust upon him, and only shrugged. “I guess.” He kicked at the snow with a pout then glared at her with obvious suspicion. “Why are you following me, anyway? Why do you care?”

 **Excellent questions,** Choumei grumbled in the back of her mind, his raspy Batman voice somehow more pronounced. **I thought we had plans.**

They did—er, _she_ did—but they could wait. It wasn’t like one more day without a formal Academy education would kill her. Besides, she couldn’t just leave a kid to wander around on his own.

What if her neighbors got him?

“Well,” she drawled, elongating the vowel as she put on a show of thinking over her answer. “I hate bullies. There’s a lot of things I can ignore, but bullies aren’t one of them. As for why I’m following you,” she shrugged. “I live here, so I figured I could give you a hand.”

Obito stopped dead in his tracks, mouth opening and closing like a landed fish. When he found his voice again, it was filled with more incredulity than a child his size should be able to produce.

“You _live_ here,” he repeated, face twisting with offense when she nodded, amused. “ _Why?_ What about your family?”

She shrugged again, unconcerned. “Don’t have one.”

An angry buzz in her pocket corrected her sharply.

“Ah,” she pulled the giant beetle from her pocket, showing him to Obito with no small bit of pride. “Aside from Mushi, of course.”

The Uchiha boy stared at the beetle, looked up at her, then suddenly looked very, very sad. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice smaller than he was. “Baa-chan always says I should think before I speak.”

“It’s fine,” she said, placing Mushi back in his warm pocket. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it. It _is_ weird that I live here all by myself, but it’s what I’m used to.”

That…did not have the intended effect.

“That’s even worse,” Obito insisted, angry for some reason. “Don’t you get cold? What about food? Aren’t you lonely?”

Benihime suffered the barrage of questions, answering each of them easily and honestly as they continued through the forest, Choumei chiming in whenever her neighbors or a predator decided to move. Once she’d explained some of how she’d lived before coming to Konoha—though not much, considering her invisible audience—Obito became very quiet.

She let him be. If he had something to say, then he would say it. In the meantime, she just kept walking. The thoughts she dismissed earlier resurfaced, demanding her attention.

This was Obito. Kakashi’s best friend who rose from the dead only to be one of Kaguya’s pawns, sacrificing his life at the last second in one hell of a rushed redemption arc. Sure, he was used, but so were a lot of people. He still instigated the purge of kekkei genkai from Kiri, still stole Nagato’s eyes, still did a whole lot of reprehensible things.

But, that was a different Obito. An angrier, more traumatized Obito, manipulated and gaslit until he was a completely different person to the adorable kid behind her. Wasn’t one of the reasons he was so easy to use the fact that he had literally zero friends aside from Rin? That was why he was so fixated on her, right? That is, supposing he functioned like most humans and the ‘Sharingan picks one person to love and everyone else can die, lol’ theory wasn’t true.

…what if it was?

Fuck.

“Hey, Beni.”

She hummed in acknowledgement, taking a moment to set aside her thoughts before turning to their main subject. “What is it?”

“You can come live with me, if you want.”

Her mind went blank, the words echoing in her empty skull as she stared at him.

“Huh?” She said intelligently.

Obito looked away, blushing cutely. “Baa-chan says kids should have adults to take care of them. If you don’t have any, then I don’t mind sharing.”

…

Of all the misguided, adorable, acts of kindness…

She smiled at him, the expression genuine. Just yesterday, she ran away from someone offering her a home, but when he did it she couldn’t help but smile.

“Thank you, Tobi,” she said sincerely. “But I’m alright. Living out here is a choice that I made. Besides,” she assured him. “I have adults. They’re watching us right now.”

The boy spun in place, trying to catch a glimpse of her neighbors, and she laughed.

Yeah. Like hell she was letting him be twisted into something he should never have become.

“Hey, Tobi, can you tell me about the Academy? I’m supposed to register for classes later today.”

“Woah, really? I’ll go with you!”

“Thanks.”

Like. Hell.


End file.
